


I've Been Waiting

by theLazarus



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, BoRhap, Bohemian Rhapsody, Bottom Ben Hardy, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Softcore smut, Top Joe Mazzello, borhap boys, hardzello, incredibly gay, just try me, literal angels, soft, this ship will never die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-11-18 17:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 82,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18124082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLazarus/pseuds/theLazarus
Summary: Ben just can't get used to being apart from his Bohemian Rhapsody family, but he especially can't get used to being away from Joe. He's not entirely sure of how deep his feelings for Joe go but spending a few days in New York with his best friend might prove to be a way in which he has to figure it out--but then what? Will changing his life to be with Joe even be a possibility?~~~The title is directly inspired by the song "I've Been Waiting" by Lil Peep, iLoveMakonnen & Fall Out Boy, which is a complete bop and my fandom-obsessed mind can't ever hear it without thinking of Ben and Joe.





	1. Chapter 1

_"It's hard to miss you when you are always on the tip of my tongue." ___

\---

“Oh god, please stop showing me Cardboard Ben,” Ben pleaded to Joe, his face a shrunken version on the screen of his iPhone. “He’s making me jealous.”  
  
“Cardboard Ben is the only Ben I have right now,” Joe replied as he sat down next to the cardboard cutout on his couch, both of them illuminated by dim yellow light.  
  
“Ouch.”  
  
“Come to New York,” Joe said.  
  
“I have an audition this week,” Ben told him. “But I want to.”  
  
“Oh right, you told me about that.” Joe smiled. “Look at you, Benny Boy, makin’ waves.”  
  
Ben smiled back. “I’m trying.” He leaned back in his bed, resting his arm over his head. “I really do miss you guys. But you especially, Joe.” He glanced down, his face flushed. “Although you probably already know that.”  
  
“I only wanna see you, Ben,” Joe replied, quoting his rendition of “Purple Rain.”  
  
Ben laughed, grateful that Joe could always brighten his mood.  
  
“But seriously, we’ll plan a trip soon, right?”  
  
Ben nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”  
  
“Good. Now sadly for me, I gotta get to bed,” Joe said. “But I’ll be thinking about you.” He winked.  
  
“Not Cardboard Ben?”  
  
“He can only fill the void for so long,” Joe assured Ben. “Goodnight, Benny.”  
  
“Goodnight, Joe. Sleep well.”  
  
Ben felt his heart drop again the second Joe vanished from his screen. He sighed as “Purple Rain” played in his head and imagined Joe comfy in his bed 4,000 miles away. 

\---

The grey skies of London made Ben more depressed. He missed all of the band--Rami, Gwil, but especially Joe. The last time they had seen each other was when the band was together again for the Oscars and, although it hadn’t been that long since, Ben felt like it had been a lifetime without them. He had been very casually considering moving to New York but it seemed daunting and he wasn’t sure if uprooting his whole life for someone would ever be worth it. Then again, only FaceTiming, calling and texting the band was proving to be more difficult than he had expected. Particularly with Joe. They made a point to FaceTime every few days, but it was already not enough.  
  
As he drove to the audition, Ben played “Purple Rain” on repeat, reminiscing on the video of Joe in the Winnie the Pooh costume, totally wasted and screaming into the microphone on his birthday, as Cardboard Ben acted a placeholder for Ben himself. He managed to laugh to himself thinking about it and hoped that the audition would go well--he didn’t feel like he could handle anymore disappointment. 

  


The audition went okay--actually, Ben wasn’t quite sure of how it went and the ambivalence left him nervous and unsteady on his feet and he wished Joe was with him to sling his arm over his shoulder and say something to make him laugh. It was around dinner time in New York and he wasn’t sure if Joe would be busy but he decided to call him anyway as he sat in his car, anticipation building with each ring, the engine rumbling underneath him.  
  
“Benny?” Joe answered.  
  
“Thank god,” Ben sighed. “Did I interrupt anything?”  
  
“You interrupted PostMates delivering me sushi. Is that sad?” Joe asked. “Like, eating sushi alone in my apartment?”  
  
Ben chuckled. “Not sad. But it would be better if I were there.”  
  
“True.”  
  
“I just finished up that audition.”  
  
“How’d it go?”  
  
“I’m not sure. That’s why I called.” Ben paused and traced the curve of the steering wheel with his finger. “It made me nervous, like, I can’t tell how it went at all.”  
  
“What did they say?”  
  
“‘We’ll let you know. We’ll call you.’ The usual. There was just no enthusiasm, hardly any reaction at all.” Ben paused again. “Do you think I’m overthinking it?”  
  
“Maybe,” Joe answered. “Could anything have been more nerve-wracking than the audition for Roger Taylor, though? You got that. Anything beyond Queen--you’ve got it in the bag.”  
  
Ben smiled to himself. “I hope you’re right.” He sighed again. “If you want to hear something really sad, I’m just sitting in my car. It’s like, what do I even do now?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I just--” Ben hesitated and began tracing the wheel again. “I just wish I was there. I mean, I wish we were all there, but more than anything, I’d love to be eating sushi with you. Or something.” He peered at the still-grey sky through the windshield. A few robins flittered past him and into the trees.  
  
“I’m looking at flights,” Joe proclaimed and after a moment he said, “The cheapest flight coming up is on Sunday morning. Come on, come out.”  
  
Ben considered it. “Okay, I’ll come out. But you better show me a good time.”  
  
Joe gasped mockingly. “Ben, how dare you doubt me. You should know better than anyone that I am a party.”  
  
Ben laughed and looked at the sky again and it no longer felt so oppressive. “Okay, Sunday I’ll fly out. I’ll text you with the details, but you’ll pick me up right?”  
  
“Me and my uber.”  
  
Ben couldn’t contain his smile.

 

The 8 hour flight felt like another lifetime for Ben. He decided to fly economy to save some money and was lucky enough to get a window seat--he stared out at the microscopic cities beneath the bulk of the plane and tried to revel in the magic of soaring through the clouds, all the while listening to Queen on his phone and not really reading the book he had brought. He picked at the meal given to him but knew that he and Joe were going out to dinner. He wasn’t sure where yet, but he didn’t want to ruin that. Just thinking of being back with his best friend had altered his mood so intensely--it was as if the world felt peaceful again, even if it would only feel that way for a few days.  
  
Ben’s heart was overflowing with anxious, pounding anticipation as he was getting off the plane and getting his bags to then make his way through the maze of of the airport, hightailing it to the exit Joe said he was waiting at.  
  
But when Ben emerged from the exit, he didn’t see the silver Toyota Camry that Joe said he would be in. He stood frozen with that sinking feeling in his gut until he got the sense to put a bag down and reach into his pocket for his phone.  
  
“Where are you?” Ben asked once Joe answered.  
  
“I’m at the exit, like you said,” Joe replied.  
  
“I’m at the exit and I don’t see a silver Camry.”  
  
“Which exit are you at?”  
  
“Uh--the east exit, I think.” Ben turned around to look at where he actually was. “It’s yellow.”  
  
“Yellow. Okay, I’ll try to find it. Hang on, Benny Boy.”  
  
Ben sighed and picked up his bag. The air outside the building smelled different--this was New York air, not London air. It was colder and sharper in his nostrils and beyond the pavement and the planes, the sun had already started to set, casting faint paint brush strokes of purple and orange in the sky. He was admiring the bright, gem-colored hues and trying to adjust to the unfamiliar environment when a silver Camry finally pulled up in front of him. The passenger window rolled down and Joe leaned over.  
  
“Welcome to New York, Ben,” Joe said.  
  
Ben laughed. “Joe, you said you were getting an uber.”  
  
“It’s a rental. I figured it’d be easier for us while you’re here.” Joe repositioned himself at the wheel. “Now come on, get in.”  
Ben opened the back door and placed his bag on the seat. “Nice ride,” he remarked as he cozied himself into the passenger seat. “It even has that new car smell.”  
  
“I always wanted a Camry,” Joe replied. He put the car in drive and accelerated. “My proper greeting to you is going to have to wait. I could tell people were getting irritated with me blocking traffic.”  
  
“Definitely.” Ben inhaled and glanced at Joe through his peripheral, then looked at him dead-on. “It’s so good to see you.”  
Joe smiled. “You too.”  
  
“I listened to ‘Purple Rain’ all the way to my audition the other day.”  
  
“You did?” Joe laughed. “That’s great. Well, it’s our song.” He reached over and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder to jostle him gently.

  


Once inside Joe’s apartment, which Ben had only been in a couple times before, Joe bear hugged Ben while he still had his bag in hand. He wrapped his arms around him and squeezed, swaying back and forth.  
  
“God, I missed you, Ben,” Joe said, the words somewhat muffled from his mouth being pressed up against Ben’s jacket.  
Ben wrapped his arms around Joe. “I missed you too. You have no idea.”  
  
After they mutually ended the embrace, their hands lingering on each other’s forearms, Joe twirled around and spread his arms out. “So you remember my place.”  
  
“Of course,” Ben replied. “It’s as lovely as the last time I saw it.” He glanced around the living area, which was neat and free of clutter, with photographs of Joe’s family in frames around the room, and even some photographs of him, Ben, Rami and Gwil. His eyes landed on a familiar face situated on the couch--his face. “What is this?”  
  
Joe laughed. “Cardboard Ben!”  
  
Ben approached his clone and stared incredulously. “You sat me on the couch? Is this just how it always is?”  
  
“He keeps me company.”  
  
Ben sat down next to the cardboard cutout and looked at Joe. “Is this creepy?”  
  
“The resemblance is uncanny,” Joe replied and sat down on the opposite side, with Cardboard Ben in the middle.  
  
“Well, I guess it’s not quite as bad as being in bed with it,” Ben remarked.  
  
“We don’t speak of that,” Joe laughed. “But yeah, he does keep me company.”  
  
“So which do you prefer?” Ben asked, putting his hand under his chin and batting his eyelashes at Joe. “Cardboard Ben or real Ben?”  
  
“I’m gonna have to say real Ben.” Joe leaned back into the couch. “So Benny, what do you want for dinner? We could do fancy, or we could do casual, whatever you want.”  
  
“Well, I didn’t bring any ‘fancy’ clothes. But I’ll eat anything right now, I saved my appetite for you.” Ben looked down, not realizing the way that sounded as it came out of his mouth.  
  
Joe smiled. “There’s a really good Mediterranean restaurant which isn’t too far. I don’t even think I’ll need to use the rental car, we can take the subway.” He stood up. “Aw, we’re going to have to leave Cardboard Ben.”  
  
Ben gently patted the top of Cardboard Ben’s head. “I’m sure he’ll be fine for a few hours. I just hope he’s not too jealous.”

  


 

Dinner was great--Ben was so glad to be back in Joe’s company. He was able to make Ben laugh unlike anyone else could and he felt like he could really be himself when he was with Joe, and Joe embraced him as he was. Being with Joe in the small, dimly lit restaurant made it so Ben could drown out the music above their heads and the chatter and chewing sounds of everyone around them. He hadn’t been able to laugh that loudly and that sincerely in a long time and it made Ben realize even more just how much he missed having Joe in his life all the time.  
  
Joe insisted that he pay the full bill so Ben promised him to any dessert he wanted. They ended up walking a few blocks to a liquor store and Joe picked out two bottles of 5 dollar wine. The clerk didn’t ID them and he stuffed the bottles in their own brown paper bags. Joe peeled away the foil on the neck of the bottle and twisted off the top of his when they stepped outside of the store.  
  
“Is this allowed?” Ben asked but he followed suit, also removing the foil and unscrewing the top.  
  
“No, New York has a no-open-container law,” Joe replied. “But come on, it’s Brooklyn. We’ll be fine. And if not, I’ll pay for your ticket.”  
  
Ben took a swig of the wine--it was a fruity white wine and its tartness lingered on the inside of his mouth. “Deal.”  
  
They started to walk back toward the subway and, although it was late into the night, the sky was choked with the street lamps, lights from shops and restaurants, and from the multitude of cars whizzing past. It was cold out but the heat from every passerby, the near-constant laughing, and the alcohol seeping into their systems made it bearable.  
  
“When do you think you’ll hear back about that part you auditioned for?” Joe asked and took another drink. Stray droplets of wine dribbled down his chin and he wiped the mess away with his sleeve.  
  
“No idea,” Ben replied. “The anticipation is awful. Well, of course, you know that.” He paused and reached into his coat pocket with his free hand to retrieve his pack of cigarettes. “Will you hold this?” he asked and handed Joe his bottle of wine.  
  
“Ben, what do I have to do to get you to stop smoking?”  
  
Ben pulled out his lighter and lit the cigarette, inhaling his first deep drag slowly. “You should give me credit,” he replied. “This is practically the first one I’ve had all day.”  
  
“Practically.” Joe handed Ben’s wine back to him.  
  
Ben took another drag. “I’m sorry Joe, but this is one habit I can’t break.”  
  
“Cardboard Ben would never do this to me.”  
  
Ben gasped mockingly. “Don’t do that to me, you can’t really betray me with my cardboard inferior.”  
  
“Never. I could never do that to you, Benny.”  
  
Ben smiled behind his cigarette. “Good,” he said as he exhaled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II complete since I'm apparently on a roll. I really hope you guys enjoy it.

_"I feel like I'm looking for something, something that will never come." ___  
  
\--- 

Ben’s legs were aching by the time he and Joe got back to the apartment. They had wandered around Brooklyn so long that Ben had lost track of time, and their bottles of wine were nearly empty when they walked in the door. Ben kicked his sneakers off and nudged them to the side, where a couple pairs of Joe’s shoes already sat in their neat arrangement, but he thought better of it and bent over to place them side by side.  
  
“We’re home!” Joe exclaimed to Cardboard Ben, meandering over to the couch and flopping down, and took another drink from the wine, its brown paper casing around the neck crinkled to near oblivion.  
  
“I hate that you treat it like it’s real,” Ben groaned and laid his coat on the back of one of the bar stools in Joe’s connecting kitchen. “I’m the real Ben.”  
  
“Of course you are. But he’s real enough sometimes.”  
  
Ben sat down next to Joe. “What do you mean?”  
  
Joe sighed but he gave Ben a reassuring smile. “Well, if I can’t see you, at least I can have you in cardboard form,” he said.  
  
Ben took another swig from the bottle and looked at the carpet. He never thought how severe his love for the guys would have been, but he especially never thought he would have these feelings for one of them. He and Joe were best friends now--that was apparent--but Ben spent the entirety of every day thinking about him, wondering what he was doing, who he was with, and how badly he wanted to be wherever he was.  
  
He just really needed a cigarette. The two he had before his flight and the one while walking through Brooklyn hadn’t sufficed although it seemed that nothing, not even a trusty cigarette, could help him now. Still, he glanced over at his coat on the chair in desperation.  
  
“Can I smoke in here?” Ben asked, then realized what a stupid question that was. Joe hated that he smoked, he certainly didn’t want it in his apartment.  
  
“You cannot, Benny, but need I remind you that I do have a balcony and I will let you smoke out there.” Joe stood up again and went to the kitchen, fumbling around in the dark for a minute before emerging with a cereal bowl. “This’ll just have to do.”  
  
They put their coats on all over again and stepped out onto the small balcony space, where Joe had set a high-back metal chair in one corner facing out. The lights from the city around them still burned in the sky and the somewhat distant sounds of beeping car horns and whizzing traffic still carried on.  
  
Ben leaned with his back against the banister and lit a cigarette. The inhalation was instant relief--he felt his muscles relax and he felt like he could, ironically, breathe again. For a second he wondered if visiting Joe was a mistake and that he should have stayed in London and waited the whole thing out. It hadn’t been _that _long since they wrapped up filming and all the interviews and the Oscars--maybe it was just a grade school crush that he would get over.__  
  
Joe leaned against the banister with him. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how drunk are you?”  
  
Ben laughed. “Not drunk enough, just a good buzz. Like a 3.5?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m about the same. Maybe a 4.”  
  
Ben looked at Joe’s profile in total confusion. He had never really been attracted to a man before. To say he had never, ever been would probably be a lie, but he had never had such _feelings _for a man. Joe just _got _him. They meshed together better than Ben had ever gotten on with anyone else. He knew that Joe felt the same, of course, but Joe thought he was straight. Ben wondered if that was why he had never made a move--or was Joe just not into Ben the same way? He turned around and rested his upper body on the banister, looking out at the lights.____  
  
He wanted to kiss Joe. He wanted to kiss Joe so bad it hurt, it hurt his heart, it made his chest feel tight and constricted and he felt like he might burst if he didn’t. But Ben didn’t even have being drunk as an excuse, that much had been established. His worst nightmare right then was being rejected but he also couldn’t take any more wondering.  
  
Ben took another drag and held the cigarette between his fingers, its weight suddenly feeling so real despite being so slight, and turned to Joe. He looked at his dark eyes and his jaw dusted with what could be a real beard if Joe just let it actually grow, down the bridge of his nose to his lips. His whole face was cast in shadow but Ben couldn’t help but fixate on Joe’s lips, which still managed to look impeccably soft and pink even in the low light.  
  
He couldn’t do it.  
  
Ben let out a nervous cough. “Got anything else to drink?” 

  
  


______  
After Ben had pressed his cigarette butt into the cereal bowl and left it on the seat of the chair, tendrils of smoke still wafting in the air, the pair went back inside. Now Ben’s feet hurt from walking so much and they were cold from standing on the balcony and being so physically uncomfortable only made him want to drink more.  
  
Ben woke up with a slight headache from all the wine and not enough water. He rolled over, wrapping the puffy comforter tighter around him, and stretched out over the bed. He just wanted to go back to sleep but Joe had planned a whole day outside of Brooklyn for them, with brunch plans and, since the weather had turned out to be decent, more walking around. He didn’t want to think about how he felt last night, or how he’d been feeling for months for that matter.  
  
He groaned quietly and reached over to grab his phone. Barely opening his eyes, Ben saw two texts from Joe, which both told him to wake up, complete with egg and bacon emojis. He laid there for a minute before he felt himself dozing off again and forced himself out of bed.  
  
Joe was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in front of him. “You’re finally up,” he said, smiling.  
  
Ben sat down next to him and took the mug of coffee for himself, taking a large sip. “I’m sorry Joe. I didn’t mean to sleep in so much.”  
  
“It’s okay, we have plenty of time. I just really want to take you to this brunch place,” Joe said, resting elbow on the tabletop with his chin in his hand, looking at Ben. “It’s like 45 minutes away.”  
  
Ben nodded and took another sip of coffee. “I’m starving, so that works.” He sighed. "I hope it compares to a good English breakfast, which is exactly what I need right now."  
  
Joe just smiled a him, making Ben flush and return to the cup of coffee he had snatched away from him.  
  
  
The hot water hitting Ben’s tired body was a truly welcome feeling for him. He let it just run over him as he studied Joe’s shampoo and conditioner, which were both large green bottles from The Body Shop, a brand that sounded vaguely familiar to Ben. He squeezed a glob of Joe’s Dove body wash into his hands and massaged it over his skin, feeling like that was somehow making their bond stronger.  
  
He couldn’t lie to himself--Ben felt a lot better after the shower. He was still nervous about his own thoughts but he just wanted to have a fun day. It wasn’t like anything had changed--Joe still knew him as the same old Ben. The same Ben that could have loads of fun with him and have silly chemistry and maybe even sexual tension but it was fine. They were best friends, nothing beyond that.  
  
“Ready?” Joe asked after Ben had stepped out of the spare bedroom finally dressed.  
  
“I’m ready.”  
  
  
  
It was a given that Joe was going to play, and belt along to, only Queen songs the entire drive out of Brooklyn. Ben sang right along, mimicking Roger’s drumming, and for those 45 minutes he felt like he and Joe were right back in the band. The mid-morning sunshine warmed their faces through the windows but Ben barely paid attention to the world outside the car--he was too consumed by Joe.  
  
“No way mate,” Ben said as he dredged a piece of toast through the runny yolk of egg on his plate. “You can’t say with full certainty that a t-rex would beat an allosaurus.”  
  
“Yes I can,” Joe replied. “T-rex was way bigger.”  
  
“But allosaurus was faster. More agile and cunning.”  
  
“I think size trumps agility in this instance.”  
  
“Well, which would you rather have to encounter in real life?” Ben asked. “Honestly, I’d say t-rex because it wouldn’t be as agile.”  
  
“Either way, I’d be destroyed.” Joe sipped his latte. “Isn’t it scary to think about? I mean, could you imagine being face to face with a 40 foot long reptile beast?”  
  
“You kind of were,” Ben reminded him.  
  
Joe smiled. “I guess you’re right. That thing was terrifying, even if it wasn’t real.”  
  
  
  
Ben didn’t know where the dirt trail they were on led to and he didn’t think Joe knew either, but being in stride with him and feeling the cool air brush across his face as it came through the pines and bare oak trees had him nearly carefree. He wasn’t thinking about London or the audition he had or the gut-wrenching feeling of having to leave New York the next night. It wasn’t until they stopped to admire the small stream that ran alongside them that Ben felt his heart rise into his throat again  
  
“I wish I could stay here,” Ben said, looking at the clear water tumbling over the small rocks and mounds of mud in the stream bed.  
  
“Here in these woods or in New York?”  
  
“Either one.” Ben turned to look at Joe. His skin looked so smooth and so soft. He had thought about even just stroking his face, tracing his fingertips over Joe’s lips, and he wished that, amidst all their joking, that it had actually happened.  
  
“You can come out anytime you want,” Joe told him.  
  
Joe was too kind, too pure of heart, and Ben couldn’t keep himself contained any longer. He moved close to Joe and leaned into him, holding his face with one hand, and kissed him gently. One soft, careful kiss.  
  
Ben broke away first. “I’m sorry Joe, I just--”  
  
Joe looked confused but not outright offended, or at least Ben hoped. “Ben, what--”  
  
Ben let out a nervous, sharp laugh. “I think I want this to be real, Joe.”  
  
Joe’s cheeks were slightly flushed then. “What do you want to be real?”  
  
“Us. I want us to be real.” Ben exhaled. “I don’t want it to just be for fun. There’s something real here, I want it to be real.”  
  
“Ben, I didn’t even know you were--” Joe paused. “Gay?”  
  
“I don’t know what I am. But I like you Joe.” Ben took a moment to breathe. “In fact, I think I love you. And not in a friend way, you know.”  
  
Joe looked like he was about to say something but he stopped and took a breath. “I love you too, Ben.” He sighed and turned to look at the stream again. “I feel like I need to process this though. Is that okay?”  
  
Ben nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He was too stunned to say anything else. He felt like his tongue had swelled inside his mouth.  
  
They kept walking, this time in silence, and Ben had to fight the overwhelming desire for a cigarette, and the overwhelming wondering of if he should have just kept his feelings to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third installment! Thank you guys for all the support, I've been having a lot of fun writing this and it's so wonderful to hear that you've been enjoying reading it.

_"Now the time is right, you wanna do me so wrong when I've been waiting long for you." ___

\---

Ben was mortified. It didn’t matter that Joe seemed to have been able to brush off the kiss and brush off Ben’s declaration of feelings for him--there was now an underlying feeling of shame and embarrassment for Ben, even as they walked through the woods more and went to shops in town. Joe had been excited by a tiny used bookstore that harbored antique editions of books on nature and history, while Ben had meandered around the space, running his hands over the spines of books, completely fixated on the kiss, which kept replaying over and over in his mind.  
  
They stayed in for dinner that night. The conversation was how it always was but Ben searched for any indication of Joe’s possible feelings--was he into him? If he wasn’t, when would he let Ben know? And why wouldn’t he be into him? Their physical chemistry, as Joe had once boldly pointed out, was obvious. Beyond that, they were bonded for life emotionally. Ben couldn’t imagine anyone else ever knowing him the way Joe knew him.  
  
Despite Joe insisting that Ben not help him clean up their greasy plates and napkins, Ben gathered the dishes and washed them. At least keeping busy would help distract him, even if he was in Joe’s apartment, surrounded by Joe’s coffee mugs and dishes and his toaster, breathing in the scent of Joe’s laundry detergent and the subtle, soapy smell from the bottle of Free & Clear that he had at the sink.  
  
Joe came up and grabbed a dish towel and began wiping the dishes and glasses dry.  
  
“Joe, again, I’m just really sorry about earlier,” Ben said, soap foam and hot water running down his hands. “I didn’t mean to blindside you.”  
  
From Ben’s peripheral he could see Joe smile. “It’s really okay,” he told Ben. “I wasn’t totally blindsided. I mean, I’ve always felt like there’s been something between us. More than just friendship. I just didn’t know you were into men--”  
  
“I don’t know either, honestly. But does it matter?”  
  
Joe paused, the towel still on the glass he was drying. “That’s a complicated question.”  
  
“Is it though? I mean, I know I--I know I love you, Joe."  
  
“When did you realize?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“When did you realize you loved me?”  
  
Ben thought for a moment. He sighed and rinsed his hands before snagging the towel away from Joe and drying off with it.  
  
“Honestly,” Ben began, looking at the magnets and pictures on Joe’s fridge. His eyes landed on a photo of the two of them on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody, in full-fledged Roger Taylor and John Deacon costume. “It was when I saw the video of you singing ‘Purple Rain.’ I know that’s silly, but when I watched it, I knew I loved you.” He laughed. “And I watched it over and over.”  
  
Joe smiled. “You did?”  
  
“You have no idea how happy it made me. I was so gutted to not be there with you guys and seeing you absolutely scream that song--” Ben trailed off, looking back at the photo of him and Joe for again. “It really made my feelings concrete.”

  
  
Sleep was not coming easily to Ben that night. He stared at the ceiling in the dark for a while before tossing and turning, glancing at his phone from time to time as he fought the urge to text Rami or Gwil or both that he had confessed his love to Joe. Instead, he got out of bed and went out of the spare room, leaving all the lights off, and put on his coat.  
It was brisk outside but Ben felt newly adjusted to the sharp New York air. He lit a cigarette and sat on the chair, pulling it closer to the railing so he could peer out at everything beyond and below him and dangle his wrist through the slats as the cigarette fumed.  
  
He took a long drag and watched the silver smoke catch the wind as it left his lungs, twirling into itself against the darkened sky. He felt like an idiot. If he had just kept his feelings for Joe to himself, he wouldn’t have messed anything up--no awkwardness, no feeling self-conscious. Ben wished he could take it back. To make things worse, Joe hadn’t even given him a straight answer. Sure, he said he loved Ben, but he didn’t clarify how. Ben was still left with so few answers and he felt like if he left New York without the answer he needed, it would destroy him once he and Joe were apart again.  
  
The warmth of the apartment should have consoled Ben when he walked back inside, closing the glass sliding door behind him, but it only made him feel more isolated. He hung his coat back up and got back in bed, pulling the comforter tight around him. He still wasn’t tired--well, his body was tired but his mind was working in overdrive and bombarding him with suspicions and worries.  
  
After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, Ben heard the bedroom door creak open. He froze--either it was a ghost or it was Joe, and he wasn’t sure which was scarier right then. But it was Joe--he came up along the side of the bed opposite Ben.  
  
“Hey,” Joe said in a sleepy voice. “I thought I heard you outside.”  
  
“Yeah,” Ben replied. “I needed a smoke. Can’t sleep.”  
  
To Ben’s surprise and utter confusion, Joe situated himself on the bed next to him, pulling the comforter over him and nestling in.  
  
“I love you,” Joe said.  
  
Ben wished he could see Joe’s face but he could only see a vague black outline of his shape. “Love me how?” he asked.  
  
“Like, love, Ben. You know.” Joe let out a quiet laugh. “Silly question.”  
  
“It’s not,” Ben replied, but he laughed too, suddenly feeling stupid. He knew Joe loved him. He just hadn’t been sure how but he was pretty sure Joe climbing into bed with him like that was a good indicator.  
  
“I love you,” Joe repeated and scooched closer. He laid his arm over Ben and rested his forehead against Ben’s.  
  
Ben’s breath was caught in his chest. He curled slightly into Joe, resting his head in the crook of Joe’s neck and shoulder, and closed his eyes. Joe was warm and the shirt he was wearing had the scent of his laundry detergent embedded in it--Ben breathed it in and wrapped his arm tight around him, feeling like he could finally then doze off.  


  
  
Ben woke up to find Joe still sleeping next to him, facing the opposite direction. He moved into him, pressing his body against Joe’s backside, and sighed. He never wanted to leave the bed--finally being close to Joe physically in addition to emotionally seemed like the relief Ben needed. He couldn’t even wrap his head around being back in London again without him. He knew he could try and meet up with Gwil, but now Ben was left wondering if seeing Gwil, or even Rami for that matter, without Joe would make him miss his best friend even more.  
  
Joe stirred slightly and rolled over onto his stomach, shoving his arms underneath the pillow and turning his head to the side.  
  
Ben smiled. “Good morning.”  
  
“‘Morning,” Joe groggily replied with his eyes still shut. “What time is your flight?”  
  
“2 o’clock.”  
  
Joe groaned. “No. I’m not ready.”  
  
“Me either, buddy.”  
  
Ben stayed in bed for a few more minutes but gathered the willpower to get up and leave Joe’s warm, sleeping self there while he got ready for the day. He truly didn’t want to leave--the time in New York had just not been long enough and when he thought of having to sit on another 8 hour flight just to return home to his own empty place seemed oppressive.  
  
In the bathroom he turned the handle for the shower and rested his hand under the water, testing the temperature before stripping and immersing himself in it. The element of the unknown sank into his chest--what would happen when he _did _go back to London? He and Joe hadn’t talked about that and he didn’t think Joe was be too keen on constantly flying back and forth, and if Ben were being honest with himself, he wasn’t too keen on that either.__  
  
Would he move to New York? Sure, Ben had thought about it for a little while but now the question seemed more urgent.  
When Ben walked out of the bathroom he could hear Joe rummaging around the kitchen. He got dressed, putting on a pair of joggers and a hoodie--given the flight and given the grief of him leaving, there was no point in trying to look put together.  
  
Joe handed him a cup of coffee as he situated himself at the island. “How’d you sleep?”  
  
“Great, actually,” Ben replied. He chuckled nervously. “It was nice.”  
  
Joe reached across the countertop and ran his hand through Ben’s hair, brushing it back. “It was nice.”  
  
Ben leaned into his touch. “I don’t want to go.”  
  
“I don’t want you to go either.”  
  
Joe’s words sounded sincere but his body language left Ben confused. Despite running his hands through his hair and stroking his face, Joe just seemed distant. Of course, Ben realized, that could just be because he was, in fact, leaving. But he had never felt a disconnect from Joe like that before. Plus, they still hadn’t really _talked _about anything.__  
  
It wasn’t until after their late breakfast while Joe was driving Ben to the airport, with _A Night At The Opera _playing all the way, that Ben had to finally broach the subject of what was going to happen next for them.__  
  
“What does this mean for us?” Ben began. “Since I’m going back to London, I mean.”  
  
It was a few seconds before Joe answered, his eyes fixed on the highway. “I think it’ll be like how it always is, you know?”  
  
It was Ben’s turn to pause, not sure how to process what Joe had just said. He looked out the window at the pavement and the other cars moving past. “What do you mean?” he finally asked, his voice low.  
  
“I love you Ben. I love you so much and I’m so grateful to have you in my life,” Joe told him. “I don’t know what I would do without you. But being thousands of miles apart--I mean, it’s hard enough to be away from one another just as friends. I don’t know if I can handle being _with _you if it means being that far apart.”__  
  
Ben felt like he was going to vomit. His chest hurt and the car suddenly felt so compact and stifling. He wanted fresh air, he wanted a cigarette, he wanted a shot of vodka--something. He took a breath, readying himself to present some sort of well-crafted counter-argument but all that he could say was, “Seriously?”  
  
“I can’t do it, Ben.” Joe sighed. “I wish saying ‘I’m sorry’ helped. I know it doesn’t. Please know I love you. I love you so much, I--”  
  
“I feel like an idiot,” Ben mused, not even to Joe specifically but just to the world, looking incredulously out of the windshield. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I feel so stupid.”  
  
Joe glanced at him and reached for his hand, controlling his steering wheel with his left and cradling Ben’s hand in his right. “You don’t need to feel that way. I’m glad you told me. It is real, Ben. It just can’t be real right now.”  
  
Ben wanted the soft touch of Joe’s hand and their fingers interlacing to comfort him, but it didn’t. He kept staring ahead, feeling like he was unable to move, unable to look at Joe, and the sounds of Queen disappeared until he was just left with his own cycling thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I did my boy Ben real dirty in this one, poor thing. So I guess we'll have to see what happens next...  
> Also, the next chapter might take a bit longer since I'll be out of town for a couple days:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it's here!  
> This fourth installment is, admittedly, lacking a lot of true action, but I wanted to give a bit of Joe's perspective. I hope you still find it it enjoyable.  
> Again, I feel so thankful for all of you reading and commenting and showing support. This fandom is truly amazing.

_”Call me when you’re in the city again / My head just went oblivion.” ___  
  
  
\---  
  
As cliche as it was to think of, the streets of Brooklyn felt empty as Joe walked down them. He had been trying to distract himself more--more walks, more reading, more movies, more sporadic bursts of writing that he was never satisfied with, more outings with friends--but the distance, literally and figuratively, between him and Ben was weighing him down.  
  
They’d been texting here and there and had Facetimed a couple times since Ben went back to London, but all in all, Ben had been avoiding most of Joe’s attempts to reach out--and Joe couldn’t blame him. He knew he had waited too long to say what he had been thinking and he knew he had shattered the trust Ben had in him. Joe wanted to do something to remedy it but he wasn’t sure what, and with Ben barely speaking to him, he was really at a loss.  
  
As he walked a few blocks to get some coffee, but more importantly, get out of his apartment, Joe thought about Rami and Gwil knowing about what happened. He wasn’t sure if Ben would have told them, and they hadn’t said anything to Joe personally, but the thought of having to deal with Gwil’s cold judgment, rightfully so, and Rami’s inability to mince words crossed his mind.  
  
He got his coffee and added some milk to it but even stirring it and feeling the heat through the cardboard cup felt mechanical, almost surreal. Joe pictured Ben across the Atlantic, playing his drums or out having a pint of beer with his British friends and he felt a weight drop into his gut. It was painful enough to not have Ben around but even more painful for him to barely be in any sort of contact.  
  
Joe looked around at the other people in the coffee shop--he tried to take in the various pieces of art on the walls; he observed the baristas steaming milk and counting change--and felt out of place. Brooklyn was his home, no doubt, but suddenly he didn’t know why he was even there.  
  
He decided to go walk some more--spring had completely set in and even through the sounds of cars, he could hear birds chirping. The air smelled fresh and felt new and the trees dotting the sidewalks were sprouting green leaves. It was a nice, welcome change for him. He only wished Ben was there with him.  
  
Later that evening Joe decided to take a chance and Facetime Ben. He had had some wine during a very-needed dinner with a friend, although throughout the whole dinner he had to contain the need to blurt out everything that had happened between him and Ben, and had had another glass and a half at home--needless to say, he was feeling confident, or at least desperate.  
  
To Joe’s shock, Ben answered and when he revealed himself he was cast in dim, yellow light and was lying back against a pillow. His face had always driven Joe mad--the sleepy green eyes, the chiseled jaw, the strong brow--he was beautiful.  
  
“Hey,” Joe said and offered a small smile.  
  
“What’s up?” Ben replied groggily.  
  
“Did I wake you up?”  
  
“No, I was just going to bed.”  
  
“What’d you do today?”  
  
Ben sighed. “Not a whole lot--looked over some scripts. Took some photographs. You?”  
  
“About the same,” Joe said and then paused before adding: “Well, obviously not the photographs. And no script readings. But not a whole lot.” He inhaled deeply before continuing. “Ben, I feel, just so awful about what happened--”  
  
“It’s okay.”  
  
“No, it’s really not okay.” Joe let out a quiet, nervous laugh. “I fucked up, Ben. I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”  
  
“Well, like you said, it would just be how things were--”  
  
“But it’s not like how things were. We’ve barely been speaking. And listen, I understand why, I mean, I can’t blame you.”  
  
“I’m not avoiding you on purpose, Joe. I just don’t know how to handle this.” Ben sighed again and sat up, jostling himself within Joe’s screen for a second. “I kinda laid it all out on the line and--that’s it, I guess. It’s gonna be hard to go back to where we were.”  
  
Joe desperately wanted to challenge that statement or at least deflect it but he couldn’t find the words--and he knew that Ben was right.  
  
“I know,” Joe said. “But I miss you so much Ben, you have no idea. I need you in my life. I really do.”  
  
“I’m here.” Ben raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m _here _. I’m not there. Which I guess is the problem.”__  
  
That hurt Joe. He knew Ben was right in saying that too, but it still felt like a knife being driven into his chest. “I just want--I don’t know. I want it to be how it was. I can’t imagine my life without you in any sense of the words, I can’t do it that way, Ben,” he said and downed the last half of the glass of wine.  
  
Ben chuckled. “Liquid courage?”  
  
“As a matter of fact, yes.”  
  
“What kind?”  
  
“Another five dollar bottle,” Joe told him. “That Bohemian Rhapsody check is already dwindling.”  
  
Ben laughed and the sound rejuvenated Joe for a few seconds--hearing it made it feel as though all their problems had disappeared. Then he remembered he was holding Ben in a glass box and the burst of happiness dissipated as quickly as it had come.  
  
“I really do have to go to bed,” Ben said and laid back down. “I promise that we can talk tomorrow, though.”  
  
“You promise?”  
  
Ben placed his hand over his heart. “I swear.”  
  
Joe smiled. “Okay. Goodnight.”  
  
After Ben disappeared from the screen Joe slumped on the couch and turned to Cardboard Ben, whom he had kept purposefully out of frame while he was talking to the _real _Ben.__  
  
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said to the cardboard cutout. “I know I hurt him but, I mean, I’m hurting too--” He paused, staring into Cardboard Ben’s two-dimensional eyes. “You’re right. It wasn’t fair of me. I messed up. What can I do to make it right?” Another pause and then Joe sighed: “You’re a good listener but man, I need a talker right now.”  
  
  
The Bohemian Rhapsody check was, thankfully, not actually dwindling, so Joe decided to try and go buy a new car. His previous car had sort of bit the dust and he missed having access to the world, not just the boroughs of Manhattan. So on a bright Wednesday morning he made it his mission and after investigating Facebook and Craigslist for-sale posts, he ended up swallowing his anxiety about dealing with salesmen and headed to a dealership.  
  
The impeccably shiny cars glinted and shimmered in the sun. Joe wasn’t looking for anything fancy--he didn’t think he’d ever be able to pull off driving a souped-up sports car or a ritzy luxury vehicle--he just needed something reliable and sturdy. Reliable and sturdy was exactly what he needed in all aspects of his life, he realized.  
  
_Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality…_  
  
The lyrics swam around in Joe’s mind, repeating over and over. There _was _no escape from reality, that was the problem, and not even buying a new car could fix it for him.__  
  
Regardless, he ended up swallowing his fears as he shook hands with a young-ish salesman who seemed a little less intimidating and pushy than he was expecting.  
  
“What are you looking for?” the salesman, who had introduced himself as Nick, asked.  
  
“Not sure,” Joe replied, glancing around at the cars. “I had a Honda Civic before. I liked it a lot. Just something reliable, something that’s sort of economical.”  
  
“Have you ever driven a Subaru?”  
  
“I have not.”  
  
Nick walked Joe over to a slate grey Subaru. “This is a 2019 Subaru Impreza. 28 MPG city, 38 MPG highway, so you’ll definitely get your money’s worth,” he said. “Super reliable--Subarus are definitely known for lasting.”  
  
“I’ve heard that,” Joe replied, inspecting the car. It was nice--shiny and new, of course, but he did actually like the style and size of it too. “That would be nice, I mean, if I’m going to pay that much in car payments, I want it to be worth it.”  
  
Nick laughed, giving Joe the impression he was just buttering him up. “I’ll do my best to get you a good deal. You wanna try it out? I’ll go grab the key,” Nick said.  
  
  
  
The Impreza drove really smoothly and it had the new car smell, which just brought him back to thinking about Ben riding alongside him in the rental Camry. He sighed wistfully and tried to focus on the environment surrounding him--it really was a nice day outside--but he could only focus for so long before he was thinking about Ben.  
  
It would be so much easier if Joe could drive a few hours to see Ben. Even if he lived in another state it would be a _little_ more bearable. London was so outrageously far and he was in a totally different timezone. Joe wondered if part of it was a separate insecurity--Ben said he wasn’t sure if he was even interested in men and had asked if it mattered. Joe wasn’t sure how much it mattered to him but he knew it did to some extent.  
  
He missed Ben more than he could even articulate. He even missed Ben’s cigarette-smoke smell that incessantly clung to his clothing and hair. He missed seeing Ben’s eyes light up whenever Joe managed to make him laugh. He missed just talking, about anything at all, and being totally unaware of all time passing because he was so immersed in those green eyes.  
  
  
  
The sound of the engine was a such a quiet, steady hum that it almost soothed Joe as he went around a bend and through a wooded area. He had had to go out of the city area to find this dealership and the more rural, green setting was a nice change from the constant-bustling of hipsters and white-collar workers that dwelled in Brooklyn. He imagined Ben moving to New York and living in his apartment--Joe could see Ben stowing away Cardboard Ben in the coat closet or even tossing him off the balcony in a jealous fit. It made him laugh. He pictured Ben leaving dirty dishes on the coffee table and in the sink and Joe having to begrudgingly pick them up, rolling his eyes as Ben flashed him a cheeky smile.  
  
Picturing a life together with Ben, a _different_ life, a partnered life, made Joe’s heart feel like it was swelling inside his chest. He had asked Ben a poignant question before--when did he realize he loved Joe?--but Joe had never given Ben an answer for himself. He knew the answer though--it was actually around the same time Ben had realized he loved Joe.  
  
Joe was attracted to Ben almost immediately, both in and out of costume while on set. How could he not have been? Ben, to put it simply, was _beautiful_ and they immediately got along, joking and horsing around with one another so easily. Once they did a few interviews together, Joe had realized how deep his feelings had been running, and when Ben couldn’t make it for the final stretch of press, Joe was sure of it--he loved him.  
  
The funny and sort of sad part of it was that their fans had already caught on before that. Joe had always just taken it as a joke, always assuming that Ben was along for the ride and they had some level of mutual sexual attraction but they were _friends_. So many of his lustful looks shot at Ben had gone ignored or laughed off. So he tried to push it out of his mind, even when Ben was absent from the rest of the band, Joe told himself he was missing his best friend--nothing more. Hell, he had seen Ben flirt with girls at bars and at events--how was he supposed to ever take any of his flirtation seriously? He had felt like he was forced to forget about any romantic possibility and accept their relationship for what it was, which he had actually managed to do. It wasn't until Ben kissed him that he had felt like he was thrown back into a whirlwind of confusion and doubt.  
  
He sighed heavily and turned back around to return to the dealership.  
  
“I like it,” Joe told Nick as he got out of the car. “It drives really nicely.”  
  
“It’s a pretty sweet ride,” Nick agreed. “Perfect for someone who wants something solid and simple. I will say though, if you’re looking for more horsepower, I have a couple other cars in mind for you.”  
  
Joe considered the offer but decided to take the Impreza--it was a solid car and he just wanted something as soon as possible. Plus, if it really would last that long, well, that was the constant he needed in his life then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the next chapter might _actually_ take a bit longer--I was able to write this one fairly quickly. So hang in there, friends!  
> Also, I'm not sponsored by Subaru, but I wish I was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the previous chapter, the FIFTH, yes fifth, installment actually has quite a bit happening in it. I'm stoked for you guys to read it and you can count on me writing the next one imminently.

_"Break my heart but don't tell me I'm not doing fine because I'm doing fine." ___  
  
\---  


Ben had a few seconds of sleepy, half-dreaming bliss before his mind jolted awake with the memory of him kissing Joe. He groaned into his pillow as the memory of being curled up against Joe in bed assaulted him next. He wanted to go even half an hour without thinking about it all--now it was bombarding him immediately upon waking.  
  
He rolled over onto his back and looked at the ceiling patterned with strips of light coming through the blinds. The birds chirping beyond the walls and the glass were audible, tweeting high-pitched, repetitive tunes and chirps--officially spring. For a moment he wondered what it looked like in New York and he groaned again.  
  
He missed the smell of Joe’s apartment, not to mention Joe himself. Ben’s shower was devoid of Dove body wash and coordinating shampoo and conditioner, plus the glass door was covered in streaks and water marks, not like Joe’s shower at all. Ben stood under the water motionless for a minute, still thinking about what Joe had said about everything being the same as it was.  
  
It _wasn’t_ , that’s for sure. Ben did feel bad about not being in as much contact with Joe but it just hurt too much then. What had been said and what had been done couldn’t be taken back and it wasn’t even as if taking it back was what Ben wanted, he just wished the outcome had been different.  
  
Getting dressed was a chore. He wanted to keep wearing sweats and nothing else, but he figured Gwil would appreciate seeing him in something different, and he hoped that maybe putting on “nicer” clothes would at least trick himself into feeling better.

  


The neon red and pink lights of Pizza Union made much less of an impact on Ben’s eyes given the afternoon sun outside, but he challenged himself to stare at the big pink lion’s face anyway until his eyes were near tears until he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Hey,” Gwil said and embraced him in a hug. “How have you been?”  
  
“Since the last time we talked? About the same,” Ben replied.  
  
“Still moping? What’s going on?” Gwil cocked his head to the side.  
  
Ben sighed and looked at the floor before meeting Gwil’s puppy-dog eyes again. “I can’t tell you until we start eating,” he said. “Seriously, we’re both going to need to be sitting down.”  
  
“Oh god,” Gwil replied with a nervous chuckle.  
  
Once they had finally sat down with their meals underneath the neon lion Ben took a sip of his drink and tried to mentally prepare himself to spill his guts to Gwil. He really didn’t want to but he didn’t feel like he could contain it anymore and, of everyone, Gwil would be most likely to understand or, at the very least, be the most receptive.  
  
“To put it simply,” Ben started then paused and thought for a moment. “No, I take that back. Let me say this: I--I like Joe.”  
  
Gwil gave him a puzzled look. “Right?”  
  
“No, Gwil, I _like_ Joe.”  
  
The puzzled look stayed on Gwil’s face. “What?”  
  
“For fuck’s sake, mate, I’m in _love_ with Joe,” Ben declared with a huff, then looked around the restaurant to make sure no one had noticed his outburst--the staff were busy and the few other patrons had paid no mind, but he still wanted to shrink into the seams of the floorboards.  
  
Then Gwil looked taken aback. “I don’t--I don’t understand?” He looked away and raised an eyebrow. “Since when?” he asked.  
  
“For a while now, mate. For a while.”  
  
Gwil exhaled. “This is big. This is kind of blowing my mind, Ben.”  
  
“Tell me about it.”  
  
“You told him?”  
  
Ben nodded. “When I was in New York last week, I told him.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
Ben looked down and shook his head, having to laugh a little to himself. “He said he loves me too but told me when I went back it would ‘be the same as it always is,’” he explained. “Because I live in London. And he lives there.”  
  
“God, Ben, I’m sorry.” Gwil still looked puzzled and he said, “I truly wouldn’t have ever thought. I mean, I know you guys were--are--always like--”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Ben cut him off. “I’m wondering if that was part of the problem.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Like, if I had let him know sooner, or maybe, like, hadn’t led him on in whatever way I may have--”  
  
“No way, Ben, I doubt Joe sees it like that. You guys are best friends,” Gwil said and, with a reassuring smile, added, “Always will be.”  
  
“I hope you’re right,” Ben sighed and finally took a bite of the pizza. The state of his emotions had left him mostly devoid of hunger and having lunch with Gwil was the first proper meal he had in days. “No, no,” Ben went on mid-chew, then swallowed. “You’re right. Joe and I will always be best friends. It’s just hard right now, you know?”  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Gwill replied. “I gotta be honest, my mind is still blown. I mean, how did it happen? Like, how did you tell him?”  
  
“Well, I mean, I kissed him--”  
  
Gwil’s eyes widened. “You _kissed_ him?”  
  
“Took me long enough to do it, I’ll tell you that.”  
  
“How was it?”  
  
Ben chuckled. “Seriously?”  
  
“Yeah, I wanna know.”  
  
Ben smiled and looked to the side, thinking back to the kiss. As much as a large part of him wanted to forget all about it, if that was the only instance of kissing Joe or being that close to him Ben would ever have, he really wanted to keep it.  
  
“It was--” Ben thought, trying to find the right word, the best word, but failed. “Nice. It was a gentle kiss. I was freaking out, Gwil, I really was. I didn’t know what the outcome would be.”  
  
“At least he wasn’t totally offended? Plus, you basically kissed John Deacon, which is, well, astounding, frankly.”  
  
Ben laughed. “Roger and Deaky--could you imagine?” He sighed. “It’s just rough. I don’t know what to do now. What if I _can’t_ go back to how things were before?” he asked.  
  
“I think you’ll be able to,” Gwil tried to assure him but he sighed too. “But you’re right--that’s a fair question to ask yourself. You put yourself on the line and, especially with someone who’s already a friend, that really--well, it really sucks, honestly.”  
  
“I haven’t had it this bad for someone in a long time,” Ben told Gwil. “Maybe ever. Considering--well, Joe being a man and all.”  
  
Gwil raised his eyebrow and clucked his tongue. “It’s a tricky thing, I guess.”  
  
“Seriously.”  
  
Telling Gwil actually did relieve Ben a bit--finally he had been able to speak about what had happened instead of go on internalizing all of it. Gwil didn’t have any more answers than he did but Ben realized he might not ever have any answers, or at least not the answers he wanted. 

 

Focusing on his reps just wasn’t happening for Ben--normally going to the gym helped get himself out of his own head and, after finishing a workout, helped him just to feel all-around better, even rejuvenated. But he couldn’t focus, he kept thinking about Joe and he wondered what he was doing while he was trying to do bench press after bench press. More than anything, he felt sticky with whatever sweat had managed to accumulate over his skin and mentally exhausted and unmotivated.  
  
Ben sat up on the bench and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Hunching over it, he was tempted to check Joe’s instagram or even message him. He had to admit to himself that he was sad that Joe _hadn’t_ messaged or called him all day. He stared at the home screen of his phone long enough for another gym member to come over and ask him if he was done with the bench. Ben got up, wiped it down for the guy, and went back to the locker room.  
  
He leaned his back against the lockers and kept staring at his phone before abruptly deciding to go into the app store--and there it was, after merely typing the letter “T” in the search--tinder. Ben’s mind was a fuzzy cloud as he contemplated hitting the download button and in a split-decision, decided to do it. He certainly didn’t feel any better as he watched the app download, the percentage of completion going higher and higher with every second, but he hoped it would be a distraction for him.  
  
Ben wanted to believe that Gwil was right, that he and Joe would always be best friends--and maybe Gwil _was_ right--but even still, Ben had to move on in some way or another.

As much as Ben wanted to be distracted, he was having trouble starting. What was he supposed to write in the tinder bio--that he was an actor? That you may know him best in a long blonde wig, wielding a coffee machine? That he was in love with his best friend who lived thousands of miles away? Plus, when it came to the photos, he was tempted to choose the photos of him and Joe--partly because Joe was _in_ them and partly because Ben really felt like he looked best in them. He looked like himself--no airbrushing, no poses, no studio lights.  
  
He decided to skip the bio for that moment, although he wasn’t sure how unorthodox that was, and just try to choose some photos. He did end up choosing one of him and Joe, the photo of the two of them toasting to one another, Ben holding a McDonald’s cup and Joe holding a champagne flute. He pondered as to whether or not it would be too obvious, too flashy, but whatever, he liked the profile of his face in it. Not to mention Joe’s.  
  
After he had finally chosen what he felt like was an adequate number of photos, Ben chose his settings: distance--he immediately thought of Joe. Ben felt like up to 50 miles away seemed okay-- _he_ might be willing to travel a bit if someone swept him off his feet. As for men or women, or both, he hesitated. That was a whole separate issue and he hated having to think about it or question himself, especially after making an entire movie about Freddie Mercury and Queen. He didn’t know if loving Joe had any real bearing on his “sexuality” (and how he hated _that_ word) and what did it matter?  
  
During his pontificating Ben was reminded of him idling in the gym locker room as a man had to sidle up next to him, squeezing past, to unlock his locker. Ben mumbled an apology and grabbed his own gym bag and headed out for his car.  
  
And once situated in the driver’s seat, finally the moment had come--the actual swiping.  
  
There were plenty of attractive people and plenty of bios that gave Ben some ideas as to what to put in his, but he felt nothing, no excitement, no real desire to swipe right to anyone. If anything, he merely felt apathetic so he swiped right indiscriminately and didn’t feel motivated to message any of his matches.

  


Another shower at home, another protein shake, another sore knee--everything was certainly feeling monotonous for Ben. He flopped down on his bed, still only in a towel, and looked up at the ceiling, then turned his head to look out the window. It was still afternoon--he should do something. He just wasn’t sure what he wanted to do.  
  
The buzzing of a Facetime call shook him out of his blank staring at the sun through the window and, speak of the devil, it was Joe. Ben answered, his heart beating even after than it had been at the gym.  
  
“Hey,” Joe said and smiled.  
  
“Hey buddy.”  
  
“Guess what?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I got a new car.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, a Subaru Impreza.”  
  
“Wow.” Ben paused. “I don’t know what that is but I’m sure it’s great. You’re leasing?”  
  
“Sure am.”  
  
Ben stretched. “Playing rock stars paid off, didn’t it?”  
  
“In more ways than one, for sure.”  
  
Ben rested his arm behind his head. “You know, I still haven’t heard back from that audition. Think I should call it?” he asked.  
  
“I mean, you never know--well, you and I both know how long it can take sometimes.”  
  
“You’re right. I just feel like I need _something_ , you know?”  
  
“Your agent doesn’t have anything else?”  
  
“She’s been looking.” Ben sighed.  
  
Joe looked him up and down as best he could with his limited view. “Are you not wearing a shirt? Am I just realizing this?” he asked.  
  
“I just got out of the shower.”  
  
There was a moment of silence as Joe looked away and when his eyes returned to Ben, he said, “You look really good.”  
  
Ben smiled. “Thanks. Although I had a weak workout.”  
  
“Your face is flushed--I love when that happens.”  
  
Ben felt himself flush even more. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah, Ben.” Joe leaned back on the couch which Ben recognized as his own, minus Carboard Ben also in view. “You look so good. I wish I was there.”  
  
Ben sighed heavily and sat up, backing himself against the headboard. “Joe, come on, I don’t wanna hear that,” he said. “I’m trying to--I’m trying to move past this.”  
  
Joe looked shocked. “Why?”  
  
Joe being shocked and apparently oblivious made Ben flush yet again, but it was out of irritation then. “Are you really asking why? Joe, you told me things would have to stay the same--so here I am, trying to do that,” he explained. “I don’t want you to give me those compliments when you know how I feel and how I’ll eat it all up like an idiot.”  
  
“Ben, that is _not_ what I’m trying to do--”  
  
“I know, I know.” Ben sighed again and ran a hand through his damp hair. “This is just really hard for me.”  
  
There was a long pause as Joe looked down. When he looked back at Ben he said, “I love you, Ben. I really do. I wanna be with you.”  
  
Ben’s heart started to race again. He felt panicked, he felt like his whole body was overheating and he might pass out. Was it even real?  
  
“You do?” he finally managed to ask Joe, his voice quiet.  
  
“Yeah, Ben. I do.”  
  
Ben had to take a breath. “So what does this mean?”  
  
“Wanna move to New York?” Joe asked with a laugh.  
  
“Are you serious?”  
  
“Yes, Ben, I am dead serious.”  
  
Ben had to laugh too. “I mean--I thought about it before, it just--it seems so stressful, my whole life is here and--”  
  
“If you don’t want to, it’s okay,” Joe told him. “I thought about it and, really, I just wanna be with you. We can work it out either way.”  
  
Ben couldn’t believe it--it had to have been a dream. Thoughts of packing boxes, changing his address, leaving his family, and, of course, being with Joe flooded his mind and he felt totally overwhelmed until he looked at Joe’s face on the screen again. Even though he was just a pixelated representation in that moment, Ben felt like maybe everything really would be okay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, did I have fun with this one, so I'm thinking you guys will too. I even had to take a break during it at one point because it was getting too hot.  
> I had most of a bottle of red wine (for the antioxidants) while proofreading this, which only enhanced the editing process--happy Friday, darlings!

_”I’ve been waiting up / because I can’t get enough."_  
  
\---  
  
Ben’s soon-to-be-former home looked so empty yet simultaneously cluttered, with the cardboard boxes in various sizes the only “decorations” left in the rooms. Most everything had been packed except for the essentials he needed to get through the last few days and he had already been shipping things to New York. He had even sold his car, which broke his heart a bit--he had had many somber times in that car as well as good times, driving through the countryside and also struggling through the actual streets of London, and the thought of never really driving again threw made him sadder than he would have ever guessed.  
  
He had found a really nice loft in Brooklyn, not too far from Joe, but far enough to not feel like they were on top of one another. Ben and Joe had discussed living together but they mutually agreed upon taking it slower, even if they did feel like they wanted to be around each other all the time--being in the same borough seemed like enough. Joe wanted to help him decorate and organize, which was great considering Ben hated moving and having to unpack at all, let alone by himself.  
  
The anticipation of flying out forever, or at least the foreseeable future, was tormenting Ben but he also thought he had made it through the worst part, which had been his farewell party. Saying his goodbyes to his British friends and family was, no doubt, painful. Gwil had even shown up with a lopsided chocolate cake frosted with a blue frowny face, but they laughed and talked all the same. Although Gwil at one point had said, “The band is breaking up even more now,” which disrupted Ben’s forgetting of his own sadness and his leaving for a moment. He felt bad that he was leaving Gwil, he really did. Maybe someday Joe could also convince _him_ to move out to New York, too.  
  
Ben taped another box shut and wrote “BEDROOM” in black sharpie on the side. As he sat on the floor in front of his bed, he looked around at the empty space and the blank walls and felt overcome with grief--he was leaving his home. He was leaving his home, he was leaving his country, he was leaving his friends and he was leaving his family. He swallowed hard, fighting back tears, and tried to think of the amazing time--no, the amazing new _life_ \-- he would have in New York. But he was scared--and even though he had decided that _he wanted_ to go to New York, not just for Joe but for himself, he still felt like a piece of his heart was being torn out and left in London.

  


Although he had seen Gwil at the farewell party and thought they had both said their respective goodbyes, well, at least in the sense of goodbye from England, Ben asked Gwil if would walk around the nearby park with him as a true final farewell.  
  
The green-leaved trees shimmered around them with leftover droplets of rain and the same droplets fell on them as the cool, thick breezes wafted through the atmosphere. The sky was grey, which was nothing new, but the sun could be seen trying to force its way out from behind the clouds. Ben inhaled the scent of the fallen rain and the sweetness of the foxgloves and violets that grew in packs all throughout the meadows and in between the path, thinking about how New York wouldn’t smell like that--he knew that for a fact after his last visit.  
  
“Are you nervous?” Gwil asked, idly kicking a pebble in front of him as the two of them walked along the paved path.  
  
“Yeah, definitely,” Ben said. “I never thought I’d really leave England and that was fine with me. It’s home.” He paused, stopping to light a cigarette, and after the tobacco was burning he added, “Always will be.”  
  
“So smoking isn’t a deal-breaker for Joe?” Gwil asked with a smirk.  
  
“Apparently not, although I think I’d have to try and quit for him if it came to that.”  
  
“You really would?”  
  
Ben nodded, taking a drag. “Gwil, I’ve got it bad,” he said as he exhaled. “I’ve never felt like this for someone. I mean, not in this way. I feel so--so _certain_.”  
  
Gwil kicked the pebble away into the grass and Ben took another drag and realized that he would never, probably ever, set foot in his usual convenience shop ever again to buy a pack of smokes as he exchanged small talk with the owner who always had to remind him that he had watched Eastenders. All the change--it was daunting, to say the least.  
  
“I feel certain of Joe,” Ben went on. “But I don’t feel certain of New York. I thought it all out and I’m not moving just for Joe, I can say that for sure.”  
  
Gwil considered that, scrunching his face and raising his eyebrow in thought. “Why else then?”  
  
Ben exhaled smoke. “For one, finding acting and theater opportunities might be a little easier--or at least, more interesting. If I ever need to go to Hollywood or whatever, that’s easier too.”  
  
“Right,” Gwil replied suspiciously.  
  
“Different food. _Lots_ of different food. And with Brooklyn, at least it’s not a super far drive to get out to more of the country-ish areas,” Ben said. “Well, at least areas with more grass.”  
  
“You told me you liked it alright the last time you visited Joe.”  
  
Ben nodded and purposefully stepped through a shallow puddle, relishing the satisfying little splash his boots made in it. “I did. But I think it was probably mostly because I was _with_ Joe,” he admitted.  
  
Gwil paused for a second before asking, “Have you asked Joe if he would move here?”  
  
“I couldn’t do that. Come on, it’s gotta be so much easier for a Brit to acclimate to America, not the other way around.”  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
“Plus, I bought the loft. Which is amazing, by the way,” Ben said, twirling to face Gwil, pointing the cigarette at him. “So you will have to come and visit. Lots of visits, okay?”  
  
Gwil laughed. “I will, I swear. I can’t be alone in London all the time.”  
  
Ben hugged Gwil then, careful to not let the lit cigarette make contact with his hair or his clothes. “I’m gonna miss you so much, mate,” he said, shutting his eyes and resting his cheek against Gwil’s shoulder.  
  
Gwil wrapped his arms around Ben and squeezed gently. “You too, mate.”

  


Alcohol and nicotine was what Ben felt he needed after he arrived in New York. The uber ride to his loft felt like a dream--the people and buildings all flew past him in a blurry haze. There was no distinct sight although he tried to take note of things, like what bits of trash he saw in the gutters and clinging to patches of dirt, and what color shoes people were wearing, but he couldn’t take it all in. The air inside the uber smelled like dust and the artificial pineapple and hibiscus scent that was being wafted in through the air vents, and the driver was polite enough to greet Ben but also leave him in silence, never even glancing in the rearview mirror at him.  
  
Ben hadn’t even seen the loft in person until then and, as he dropped his bags on the hardwood, the echo of his own footsteps was audible. He took a few deliberate steps to the massive window on the opposite side of the room, where he imagined he would put his couch. Maybe--he needed Joe’s help figuring it all out. The sound reverberated in his ears--would he need to buy area rugs or something just to drown out the sounds?  
  
It was empty, just like his flat back in London was. Ben needed a shot of something, a cigarette and Joe. 

  


Ben was at Freddy’s Bar before Joe was, wondering if Joe had chosen the place because of the name alone, leaning against the counter, desperate for a drink. He was impressed with himself for even finding the place but, of course, a lot of his tracking skill was actually just him with his head tilted down, staring at Google Maps and trying not to bump into other people as he tried to navigate through Brooklyn.  
  
His heart revved up when he saw Joe walk in, who approached him with his arms wide and locked him in a hug, squeezing him tight and sighing.  
  
“Benny, I missed you,” Joe said.  
  
Ben squeezed Joe back. “I missed you too.” He breathed in the scent of him--green and fresh and familiar--and wanted to escape into his warmth forever.  
  
Joe pulled away, his hands lingering on Ben’s forearms, and looked into his eyes. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he said quietly. “I wish I had told you that so much sooner.”  
  
Ben felt himself blush. He was never comfortable with receiving compliments but with Joe, he knew he wasn’t being teased and that made him hyper-aware of himself. But he could see the affection in Joe’s eyes and it made him feel like his heart was melting as much as it was pounding with nerves.  
  
“Come on,” Ben said and slung his arm over Joe’s shoulders, sidling him up to the bar. “Shots.”  
  
Joe laughed. “Oh man, shots of what, exactly?”  
  
“Vodka.”  
  
Joe faked a gag. “You’re killing me, man.”  
  
“Come on, I moved to New York! We have to do at least one celebratory shot,” Ben insisted.  
  
“Alright, alright. _One_ shot for me, anyway,” Joe told him. 

  
  


Yet there they were, three shots and two beers each later, standing out back at the patio area, Ben leaning against the brick side of the building smoking a cigarette as Joe tried to impersonate Deaky playing the bass along to the pounding music coming from inside the bar.  
  
“I don’t know if it works, just an air bass,” Ben observed as he took a drag. “The energy is almost all there, but, I don’t know, Joe.”  
  
Joe threw his hands down. “You don’t think that paid good homage to Deaky?”  
  
“No, no, I think it did, I just think you’re even _better_ with the actual bass,” Ben said. “Also, whatever they’re playing in there is something John Deacon would never play.”  
  
“But he could,” Joe argued, pointing his finger at Ben. “And he’d play it well.”  
  
“You got me there.”  
  
Ben exhaled another stream of cigarette smoke and grabbed the loose fabric of Joe’s shirt and pulled him under the awning and into the shadowed portion of the patio, the two of them shielded by the smoke, the darkness, and the willing ignorance of the other few patrons outside.  
  
“Come here,” Ben said as he pulled Joe into him, catching him with his leg to prevent Joe from stumbling to the ground, and keeping his free hand on his back.  
  
Joe giggled and dangled his arms around Ben’s neck. “You’re drunk,” he said.  
  
“Not drunk,” Ben objected. “Tipsy, for sure, but not drunk.”  
  
It was true, he wasn’t drunk yet, but a couple more shots and he certainly would be. He was feeling good--loose, relaxed, happy to be with Joe, ecstatic really--but also feeling like he really, desperately, wanted Joe to kiss him. He knew then that Joe really did love him but Ben had still made all the first moves and he wanted Joe to really _show_ Ben he loved him.  
  
Joe didn’t disappoint--they looked into each other’s eyes, Ben trying to stifle a nervous laugh, as the cigarette burned behind Joe’s back, until Joe finally broke the tension. He leaned forward, pressing his chest against Ben’s, and kissed him gently.  
  
It felt like Ben had had another shot right then and there. With eyes shut, he saw nothing but sparkling blackness and was overcome by the feeling of Joe’s lips on his, petals of soft skin sending tingles through his body. Ben took his free hand from Joe’s back and caressed his cheekbone, leaning into the kiss, deepening it until both of their lips parted and their tongues met, still soft and sweet, like a real, nervous first kiss.  
  
Ben broke off first and laughed nervously, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips to take a long drag, turning his head so he didn’t blow it in Joe’s face.  
  
“Thank you,” Ben said.  
  
“For what?” Joe asked. He looked a little flushed then too.  
  
“For kissing me,” Ben explained. “I mean, I’m just glad I don’t have to keep making all the first moves.”  
  
Joe lightly hit him on the arm. “You really think I’d never pull out the stops for you?”  
  
Ben leaned back up against the brick. “I knew you would,” he said with a smile. “Liquid courage, right?”  
  
Joe moved in front of him and kissed him again, his hands framing Ben’s face, and when he broke away, Ben laughed nervously once more.  
  
“It’s adorable that you’re nervous,” Joe said, tracing his finger down Ben’s temple.  
  
“You think so? Because I quite feel like a child with his first ever playground crush.”  
  
Joe smiled then looked down at Ben’s hand still holding the cigarette. “You better finish that,” he said. “We need another drink.”

  
  


Their walk back to Ben’s loft was full of stumbling over their own feet and laughing at pretty much everything in sight. Ben and Joe giggled through the glaring of strangers and clumsily danced their way underneath the lights of bars and shops. Ben was definitely drunk--he could feel the vodka and beer intermingling in his stomach, the undigested liquid and foam churning inside him--but he also felt so fucking _good_. The last time he had had such boisterous, childish fun like that was when he, Joe, Rami and Gwil were all together.  
  
After a bit of a struggle Ben managed to get the key in the lock and turn it, opening the door and presenting Joe with the empty space.  
  
“Voila,” he said. “My new place.”  
  
Joe stepped inside and looked around. “It’s so--big,” he said.  
  
“It’ll feel much smaller when I actually get my furniture in here, I imagine.”  
  
“What _do_ you have in here?”  
  
“Apart from the boxes? Not a lot.” Ben went into the kitchen and opened a few of the cupboard doors. “No food. Which might be a problem right now. But we do have tap water.”  
  
“Ugh, no, Ben, you cannot drink New York tap water,” Joe replied. “I’m getting you a Brita filter.”  
  
Ben waved that idea away and sat down on the hardwood in front of the window and looked through the glass--the moon hung as a bright, opalescent crescent above them, but he couldn’t see any stars through the city lights. He heard Joe settle down behind him and then he was being coerced in between his legs, Joe's arms holding Ben against him. Ben sighed quietly when Joe rested his chin on his collarbone and nuzzled his neck.  
  
“I feel like I’ve been waiting for so long for this,” Ben said quietly, relaxing into Joe’s touch.  
  
Joe smiled against Ben’s skin. “Me too,” he said and ran his hands over Ben’s chest, his fingertips sending electrical sparks through Ben’s body. “I can’t believe it.” He nibbled on Ben’s earlobe.  
  
Ben shivered--his head was buzzing from the alcohol and all the lights outside were making him slightly dizzy, so he tried to refocus himself on Joe and his teeth gently massaging his ear and his fingers tracing over his pecs.  
  
He turned and nudged Joe onto his back and straddled him. Joe swept his hands underneath Ben’s shirt and traced down his abs, sending one intense tingle down Ben’s spine. Ben leaned down and kissed Joe roughly, not waiting for him to accept, just opening his mouth slightly so Joe’s tongue could meet his own.  
  
Joe sat up with Ben still straddling his hips and haphazardly pulled Ben’s shirt over his head, causing his blonde hair to mess and stick up in different places. Joe kissed Ben’s sternum and held him close then looked into his eyes.  
  
“I’ve been waiting so long for _this_ ,” Joe said and placed his hands on Ben’s hips, sliding his thumbs through the belt loop of his jeans.  
  
The loft was cold without any furniture or carpeting and goosebumps rippled over Ben’s skin, only exasperated by Joe’s touch. He rested his palms on Joe’s chest. “You are the most adorable, charming person I’ve ever met,” Ben told him and kissed him again, sighing against his mouth and near-trembling underneath Joe's hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I looove the feedback you guys have been giving me and I'm so ready to keep this fanfic going for y'all (and myself).  
> Also, if you want more PG-13 content (or beyond)...lemme know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be pretty compelled to keep going with the "slow burn," as one of my lovely readers noted, so in that right I hope you guys like this, despite there being a little less action. It's basically Ben and Joe just being newlyweds, but ya know what? They deserve the honeymoon phase.

Ben’s entire body was aching when he woke up--he tried to stretch his muscles and they were stiff and sore to the point that he just gave up and groaned quietly. Okay, he was on the floor, great--he knew he and Joe had been drunk but he didn’t realize they had been _that_ drunk--and his head was resting on Joe’s abdomen. He fully opened his eyes and saw the blanket covering them and the torn-open box nearby, so at least one of them had been just smart enough to make sure they didn’t freeze to death.  
  
With another groan Ben shimmied himself up and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm and looked at Joe, who was still somehow sleeping peacefully, or so it seemed, despite his head resting on nothing but hardwood. Ben didn’t know which would be better--letting Joe sleep or to wake up him from the crippling effects of the floor, but it’s not as if he had a bed in the loft yet anyway.  
  
The stark light of the morning, the cold floor and Ben’s own almost-totally-nude body made him feel like he was still in a strange dream, a dream in which he wasn’t going back to London. The reality was, the loft was his home then and the loft was empty. He felt the strong onset of an urge to unpack everything and unload the few pieces of furniture he had shipped along but when he tried to stand up, his headed pounded and his body felt worn out and weak.  
  
Ben reached over to the pile of clothes he and Joe had left before passing out and threw the shirt from the night before back on and, after some mental effort, made himself steady on his feet. He didn’t care what Joe had told him--he needed water. He stumbled to the kitchen sink and unscrewed the cap to one of the reusable water bottles he’d remembered to unpack and turned the faucet on.  
  
The water _looked_ fine. He filled the bottle halfway, brought it to his lips and chugged as much as he could. To Ben, it tasted fine--different than London tap water but fine nonetheless. He wiped the dried drool and spilt water from his chin with the back of his hand and looked at Joe again. He needed to wake him up.  
  
Ben gently jostled Joe’s shoulder. “Joe,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Joe, wake up. This floor is gonna kill you, mate.”  
  
After a few shakes Joe slowly opened his eyes. “Jesus, we slept on the floor?” he groaned, stretching underneath the blanket. “We’re idiots.”  
  
“I feel awful,” Ben announced.  
  
“You need a bed, Ben,” Joe said and turned on his side, closing his eyes.  
  
“I couldn’t take mine. But you’re right. I need to do that today, I guess.” Ben nudged Joe again. “Gotta get up or else you’ll be permanently disfigured.”  
  
“Wouldn’t that be awful,” Joe grumbled, eyes still shut.  
  
“By the way, the tap water is fine.”  
  
That caused Joe to instantly sit up. “No, don’t drink it,” he pleaded. “The media will trick you into thinking it’s okay. I’m getting you a Brita.”  
  
“If I’m going to be a real New Yorker, I think I have to drink the water,” Ben replied and took a gulp from the bottle, looking smugly at Joe.  
  
Joe groaned, holding his head in his hands. “No, no tap water.”  
  
“Fine, no tap water,” Ben relented. “But I can’t let you die of dehydration. We gotta go get food or something.”

 

  


“What type of mattress do you prefer?” Joe asked as he and Ben mozied around Mattress Firm. To Ben, all the beds looked preferable--his body was still reeling from sleeping on the floor.  
  
“Soft,” Ben said. “I want to be able to sink into it.”  
  
Joe leaned over a bed laid out with a dusky purple bed set and pressed his hands against the mattress. “This one is kind of soft,” he said.  
  
Although Ben had tried to eat as much as he could during their late breakfast, he could still feel the vodka hanging out in his stomach, and the coffee he had along with it didn’t seem to be cutting through it either, and being in a mattress store with Joe felt totally disorienting. It was so _domestic_. He may have been approaching 30 years old but he never thought about shopping for a bed with someone, even if it would just be his own bed.  
  
He sighed quietly to himself and tried to shake his anxiety away. He was overthinking.  
  
“I’d take any bed at this point,” Ben said and flopped face-up onto the mattress. “This one’s not bad. How much is it?”  
  
Joe looked at the tag hanging from the bottom-right corner. “About 3000 dollars.”  
  
Ben sat up. “Are you joking?”  
  
“I’m sure they have financing,” Joe replied but was still staring at the tag in disbelief.  
  
Ben sighed. “I need something cheaper. There’s gotta be 50 mattresses in here anyway, there must be something.”  
  
Joe sat down next to him and rested his hand on Ben’s knee. “Ben, you know what I never realized?” he asked.  
  
“What?”  
  
Joe turned to him and grinned. “You have no clue how to be an adult.”  
  
Ben shook his head and chuckled. “You have a point. I never did much to my flat in London.” He sighed. “I’m just overwhelmed.”  
  
Joe squeezed his knee. “One day a time, Ben. I’ll help you,” he said and rested his head on Ben’s shoulder.  
  
Joe’s weight was like a security blanket for Ben. He sighed again and took Joe’s hand in his own and wished he could transfer the calm he felt when they were together to his everyday life. He knew what he seemed like to everyone else--stoic, quiet, distant--but internally, his mind was always racing with loud, sometimes scary thoughts and only Joe knew how bad it could be sometimes. Often Ben wished he could just go back to being Roger Taylor, the iconic drummer who never gave two shits, who fucked around, who had fun and who lived like a real rock star. Ben just felt like another actor in the world of show business who had only experienced being a carefree rock star on the most superficial of levels, who had been plucked out of his own world and placed in an entirely different one, and Joe was his only savior. And he knew that wasn’t fair.

  


  


The most recent part Ben had auditioned for fell through, but in a way he saw it as a positive, since he wouldn’t need to fly out to LA for who knows how long to shoot the film. But it also meant that he needed to find something else at some point. Joe had reminded him that Ben should focus on unpacking and adjusting to the move, and he was right, but Ben also knew he would become bored relatively quickly in terms of his career if he didn’t nab something else.  
  
He had established the kitchen and dining area a bit--there was the kitchen table he had had at home in London which was acting as a dining table in the new loft. He placed the two chairs on either end and looked at it with his hands on his hips. It was boring without any place settings or even a vase or something on top, but at least it was there. Ben had also bought a mattress with Joe, one that _didn’t_ cost three grand, and it was on the opposite end of the loft on the floor, since he still didn’t have an actual bed frame.  
  
He wasn’t sure how to decorate but he tried to remind himself that it was more important just to get things organized. He had bought a standing closet rack and managed to hang a bulk of his clothes, at least his everyday wear and his suits and jackets, on the hangers, and the dresser he had flown in from his London flat was situated near the mattress. He folded the rest of his clothes as best he could and set them in the drawers.  
  
Ben stood in the middle of the loft and looked around: it was starting to come together. It was still depressing, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t moved before. He just hadn’t had such a big open space.  
  
His phone buzzed with a text from Joe declaring that he had groceries. Ben went out and found Joe outside the building with two big, full paper bags in his arms and two more on the sidewalk.  
  
“I drove,” Joe explained with a grin.  
  
Ben picked up the other two bags and balanced them carefully as he and Joe ascended the staircase and back into the loft, setting them all down on the island countertop.  
  
“You really didn’t have to do this,” Ben said, slightly flushed from the minor exertion and also from feeling embarrassed. “I was going to go food shopping.”  
  
“Well, I figured you were busy unpacking,” Joe replied and started to unbag produce. “And based on what I’m seeing, I was right. This place is already looking so much better.”  
  
“I’m trying.” Ben peeked inside the bag in front of him. “What did you get?”  
  
“The basics, mostly. But after airplane food, binge drinking and diner breakfasts, I made sure to get you lots of fruits and vegetables.”  
  
“Joe, you _really_ didn’t have to do this.”  
  
Joe looked up from his unbagging and gave Ben a small smile. “I wanted to, Benny.”  
  
“I just--I don’t want you to think I’m incapable of--”  
  
Joe moved from the opposite side of island and stood in front of Ben and reached his arms out to gently hold Ben’s face in his hands. “I don’t think you’re incapable of anything,” he said. “I think you’re extremely capable. But you’re right, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. I never want to make you feel bad about yourself.”  
  
Ben smiled shyly. “Thank you for this, really. It’s very sweet.”  
  
Joe rested his forehead against Ben’s. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.  
  
Looking into Joe’s deep, dark eyes, he knew it was true, truer than anything else he’d ever heard. He was glad too, glad to be there, glad to feel Joe’s hands on him.  
  
“Me too,” Ben said, his hands on Joe’s waist, still looking into his eyes for another moment before breaking away and returning to the groceries. “I’ll make us dinner. I owe you that much.”  
  
Joe wrapped his arms around Ben from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder. “What are you gonna make?”  
  
“I’m definitely going to use that chicken you got me,” Ben said. “And good call on that, I feel totally depleted of real protein.”  
  
Joe reached up and squeezed Ben’s bicep. “Hmm, I don’t know if I see it that way.”  
  
Ben giggled and tried to shimmy out of Joe’s hold. “Come on, let me get this started.”  
  
“Fine, fine,” Joe said and surrendered his arms from around Ben’s waist. “But let me help with something, anything.”  
  
“No, I insist, _I’m_ cooking.”  
  
Joe glanced over at the bare kitchen table. “Well, we'll need silverware. Where’s the box for kitchen stuff?”  
  
“All I know is, I wrote the word ‘kitchen’ on it,” Ben said. “Beyond that, it’s anyone’s guess.”  
  
  
  
As Ben cooked the chicken breast filets he had rubbed down with black pepper, garlic, and lemon and chopped vegetables for a salad, Joe had busied himself with unpacking all of the silverware Ben had brought over, plus all the dishes and glasses, but most importantly the cooking utensils so they could actually have a meal together to begin with.  
  
Sitting at the table with Joe, slicing through the meat and sipping the filtered water, in the golden and purple evening light that came in through the window felt like another dreamstate for Ben. He knew it would be a while before he adjusted and, maybe in that way, he wasn’t giving himself enough credit for being in Brooklyn for the very short time he had been. But he was nervous and on-edge, even when he was laughing as Joe’s words danced through his ears.  
  
He wanted to fast-forward the process. He wanted everything to be unpacked but also lived in--the sheets needed to smell like him, the shower needed the watermarks all over it, the kitchen sink needed to have stray dirty dishes hanging out for too long. He wanted work--he still hadn’t figured out the agent situation since he left--and he wanted to walk outside and not feel like a complete outsider. Come on, people from all over the world settled in New York, so why couldn’t Ben?  
  
His worries managed to escape him when he and Joe laid down on his new mattress together, the sheets and comforter all set, the pillows Ben’s own from London only encased in new, black sheaths, in an effort to “break in” the bed.  
  
“Good choice,” Joe remarked, lying on side to face Ben, who was face-up. “It’s pretty soft.”  
  
“And about 2 grand less than the first one we tried,” Ben replied. “What a joke.”  
  
“How much did your bed back home cost?”  
  
“I don’t know. It was hand-me-down.”  
  
“Wow, so this is exciting. A bed that’s _actually_ your own.”  
  
Ben smirked and then felt his phone vibrate repeatedly in his pocket. He didn’t know who would be calling him from London, considering how late it would have been there, and he fished it out of his pocket, unlocking it to merely see a bunch of tiny red flame alerts from tinder.  
  
He didn’t mean to acknowledge it in front of Joe but Ben made an audible “Oh” under his breath as he looked at the screen.  
  
“What?” Joe asked.  
  
“Nothing--well--” Ben wasn’t sure if telling Joe was the right course of action but not telling him felt like a far worse idea. “Joe, I completely forgot about this.”  
  
“ _What?_ ” Joe pressed, visibly confused.  
  
“Well, remember when I was trying to ‘move on’ before?”  
  
Joe hesitated, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah?”  
  
“I totally forgot--I downloaded tinder.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
Ben’s face was hot. “I completely forgot, Joe, I--”  
  
Joe laughed. “Ben, it’s fine, seriously. I don’t blame you.” He raised his eyebrows. “In fact, picturing your profile is pretty funny.”  
  
“You have no idea. Making it was a joke.”  
  
“Well, I have to look at it now.”  
  
“Oh god, don’t make me,” Ben replied, his face even hotter, sweat already dampening his forehead. “It’s awful.”  
  
“It can’t be that bad.”  
  
Ben rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow, and opened the app before handing his phone to Joe. It only took Joe a few seconds before he paused, his mouth opening in surprise, turning his head to the side to look incredulously at the loft, and turned the phone to face Ben--it was the picture of the two of them with the McDonald’s cup and the champagne flute. “ _This_ was one of your _three_ photos?” Joe asked, although he didn’t need any clarification from Ben.  
  
“I like it,” Ben defended himself. “We look good there.”  
  
Joe grinned and laughed quietly to himself. “There’s no doubt in my mind,” he said, looking back at the photo. “You _do_ love me.”  
  
“Really, what gave it away?” Ben replied sarcastically.  
  
Joe set Ben’s phone on the bed and climbed on top of him. “My life changed the minute we met,” he said, resting his hands on Ben’s chest as he leaned down to kiss him.  
  
Ben arched up to move into the kiss, his hands on Joe’s hips. “Mine too,” he said when Joe broke away. “Who would’ve thought?”  
  
Joe’s right hand reached under Ben’s shirt to rest on his abdomen and his left hand started to undo Ben’s fly. The contact caused Ben to release a barely-audible moan, then Joe was reaching inside his jeans, the only barrier Ben’s boxers.  
  
“I can’t believe I get to have you all to myself,” Joe said quietly.  
  
“Believe it,” Ben replied, knowing how flushed his face must have been, his skin tingling and hot. He sat up and pulled Joe into him, kissing him hard, his right hand still gripping Joe’s hip and his left hand cupping his face.  
  
He knew it still wasn’t fair to place on one person, but he felt like as long as he was with Joe, he would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly more fluff than anything at all smutty, and I'm enjoying it that way. Does anyone else find it hard to think of Ben and Joe in a smutty way together? They're just too damn pure. Although I can't making any promises that it won't _ever_ get any more heated;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my sweethearts--you asked and you received. Well, not full-blown smut I'm still super excited for you guys to read it. I had a great time writing it and I'm stoked to hear your thoughts.

" _I'm fiending for your touchin' on the daily /_  
_You're the only one that I want_ "  
  
\---

The world outside Ben’s loft still unnerved him. He stood on the fire escape smoking a cigarette, the warm, stagnant air making him feel even more oppressed by his surroundings. Despite the irony in that moment, he wanted fresh air, not the air that traveled from bar to coffee shop to apartment to sewer to gutter and beyond. He wondered if he was being jaded or even feeling a little too high on his horse but he couldn’t deny that he was simply, and deeply, homesick. Ben knew he couldn’t keep Facetiming Gwil whenever he felt bored and he couldn’t try and call on Joe whenever he felt alone. He had been in Brooklyn for over a month and he needed to find a way to make it through on his own.  
  
The smoke could barely waft through the atmosphere, the air was so thick that afternoon. Ben was used to far more rain in the spring--New York had definitely had some but only in shorter, fierce bursts, not the drawn out, gentle rain showers that he was used to in London. He wanted to be somewhere green--in a field or a meadow, and the grass would be damp and slick underneath him, and everything would smell fresh and new.  
  
The iron beneath his feet and the lackluster views of brick buildings and skyscrapers in the distance were not comforting.  
  
_You gotta do something, mate,_ he thought to himself. _Anything._  
  
He knew what he would do--he would go out and take some pictures. It was easy--low energy, free, and would force him to explore a little.  
  
But when he stepped clear out of the loft and into the street, the sounds of the cars and the conversation from people walking past him made Ben want to cower back inside. He gripped his camera tighter, the strap a slight tickle on the back of his neck, and forced himself to take the first few steps just to force himself to get moving.  
  
He ended up in McGolrick Park, which was actually beautiful, to his surprise. The afternoon sun burst through the full, lush green of the trees and made the grass shimmer and Ben could finally hear birds chirping around him rather than only tires rolling over pavement. Still, amidst all the greenery and earth that he felt he needed, he was assaulted by the comings and goings of the other people at the park. He knew he couldn’t fault them--they were just trying to enjoy their day like he was--but he wanted solitude, and not just recluse solitude in the loft.  
  
Ben wasn’t feeling inspired but he meandered over to one of the trees and looked up at it, the waxy, star-tipped leaves surrounding round, spiky green fruit, and after a few moments of studying it with his head cocked he realized--he had seen those trees in London. He’d seen them all over England, in fact. He stepped back and looked up again in wonder, then reached out and placed his hand on the thick trunk, stroking the bark.  
  
He braced his hands on his camera and adjusted the focus before snapping a shot of the branches. He never thought he’d ever find anything like home in New York, let alone a _tree_ that could make him feel safe again. 

  


“These are _so_ good, Benny,” Joe exclaimed as he clicked through Ben’s camera, both of them sitting on Joe’s couch, gazing at each photograph in amazement despite Ben thinking they were all shit. “Oh my god.”  
  
“They’re not that good,” Ben argued. “The exposure is terrible in most of them.”  
  
Joe looked up, mouth agape. “You’re kidding. Ben, these are amazing.” He looked back down at the camera screen and smiled. “You’re an artist.”  
  
Ben scoffed.  
  
Joe looked up again but he looked genuinely concerned then, his eyes expressing curiosity before his words did. “Ben, what’s up?” he asked.  
  
Ben shrugged. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I’ve never heard you be so earnestly self-deprecating.”  
  
Ben opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself, taking the camera back from Joe and looking at the photographs again, becoming more depressed with every click. “They’re just--they’re not that good,” he reiterated.  
  
Joe scrunched his eyebrows together. “Ben, they’re _good_. Are you okay?” He relaxed his face and grinned. “Do you need me to go get Cardboard Ben? I’m sure he’ll agree with me.”  
  
Ben managed a laugh. “Please no, I don’t need my cardboard clone to judge me.” He sighed and leaned back into the cushions, the camera still dangling in his hands. “I miss London,” he said, looking at his lap and not Joe.  
  
He couldn’t look at Joe. He knew he could always be vulnerable with Joe but it was different when Brooklyn was Joe’s home and Ben was unhappy in it. He _wanted_ to be happy in it--he thought it had been enough time. But every day when he woke up, he was met with disappointment and sadness when he realized he wasn’t in London.  
  
Joe considered Ben’s statement for a moment, his head resting in his hand, his arm propped up on the back of the couch, and said, “I can’t even imagine, Ben. I really can’t.” He reached his hand out and smoothed a fallen piece of Ben’s hair back. “What can I do?”  
  
Ben looked at him then, looked into Joe’s impossibly deep and kind eyes, the eyes he could just melt into every second of every day, and said quietly, “You’re doing everything, Joe.” He nudged Joe’s palm with his cheek, craving his touch.  
  
Joe held Ben’s face and moved close to kiss him, the softest kiss Ben had ever experienced--their lips touching just enough for the electricity to tingle through his body.  
  
“I love you,” Joe said, staring into Ben’s eyes. “I love you, Ben.”  
  
“I love you too, Joe,” Ben almost whispered, looking down, feeling more vulnerable than he’d ever felt.  
  
Joe tipped Ben’s face up with his forefinger gently guiding his chin up. “You are the most beautiful fucking person I’ve ever seen,” he said, his fingers then trailing down Ben’s throat. “It’s unbelievable.”  
  
Ben smiled sheepishly. “You tell me that all the time.”  
  
“I think you need to be reminded of it,” Joe replied, tracing Ben’s collarbone. “By me, anyway. I’d hope I’m more important than all of your outrageous fans.”  
  
" _Our_ outrageous fans," Ben chuckled. “You’re the most important person to me, Joe.” He kissed Joe with the desire to be both comforted and consumed by him.  
  
Joe grabbed Ben’s calves and pulled him into himself so Ben was straddling him in a sitting position, their crotches pressed against one anothers, the soft cotton of Ben’s sweatpants rubbing on Joe’s denim. Ben sighed against Joe’s mouth as they kissed and twisted the fabric of his shirt in his fist, aching to get Joe even loser.  
  
In a hurried and swift movement Joe swept Ben’s shirt over his head and onto the floor. He kissed down the side of Ben’s neck and slowly sank his teeth into the soft skin.  
  
Ben moaned into Joe’s left ear. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?” he asked.  
  
“Maybe,” Joe replied, slightly muffled against Ben’s skin. “Is it working?”  
  
Ben smiled. “A little.”  
  
Joe pushed Ben back down on the couch, his legs still wrapped around Joe’s thighs. “Only a little?”  
  
“I mean, yeah, it’s working,” Ben replied and bit his lip.  
  
Joe groaned quietly. “Don’t do that. You know that drives me crazy.”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate.”  
  
Joe reached his hand underneath the waistband of Ben’s sweatpants and just let his hand rest on Ben’s crotch. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he said and slipped the first two fingers of his left hand in Ben’s mouth.  
  
Ben’s heart was pounding so hard he could have sworn Joe could hear it. They’d obviously been physical throughout Ben’s time in New York but this was different--Joe hadn’t been quite so _domineering_. There was always passion and Joe, more often than not and despite Ben making the very first move in their physical relationship, took the reigns, but Ben was losing it with Joe’s fingers in his mouth and his hand gently massaging him through his boxers. Joe being in total control was, well, fucking hot.  
  
What made Ben nervous amidst his arousal was that they hadn’t gone “all the way” yet, which had made him feel like he truly was clueless when it came to being an adult in this relationship. With women it had always happened without too much thought--but with Joe, it was obviously different. Ben felt scared--scared to be away from home, scared to be in London, and scared to do something he’d never done before. Being with Joe, out of all people in the world, should have made him feel better about venturing down that path but Ben just didn’t want to disappoint him or worse--turn him off.  
  
With his fingers still in Ben’s mouth, Joe shimmied Ben’s sweatpants off him and pulled his legs back down around him. Joe’s right hand had left Ben’s crotch to stroke his thigh, teasing just at the hem of the boxers.  
  
“If I let you talk, will you behave?” Joe asked.  
  
Ben nodded and Joe removed his fingers.  
  
“When have I ever _mis_ behaved?” Ben asked, his heart still pounding, his whole body hot.  
  
Joe chuckled. “Need I remind you of that one time when we were all driving together on a rural highway and you yelled ‘deer?’” he asked. “Or when you tried to _barter_ at a 7/11?”  
  
“I really thought there was a deer,” Ben replied, smirking.  
  
“Of course you did. What was scarier than the threat of a fake deer colliding with us was Rami’s face when I looked in the rear view mirror.”  
  
Joe slid his hand inside the leg of Ben’s boxers, his fingers lingering on the delicate skin of his inner thigh. Ben wanted Joe to just _take_ him. He wanted to be relieved of all of his sadness and isolation, to be encapsulated by Joe’s touch. He reached for Joe’s shirt again and pulled him down on top of himself.  
  
“I want you,” Ben confessed in a low voice, still titillated by Joe’s hand then gently massaging his inner thigh. He unfastened Joe’s jeans and took hold of him, affirming that they were, thankfully, both sharing the same experience.  
  
Joe’s breath hitched but he still maintained composure, teasing Ben further by ever-so gently stroking his thigh, like tiny butterfly wings tickling him.  
  
“I want you too,” Joe replied and kissed Ben, sliding his tongue into his mouth.  
  
Ben ran his hand through Joe’s hair and pulled him back. “No, I _want_ you,” he said.  
  
Joe smiled smugly then asked, “Are you sure, Benny?”  
  
Ben nodded. “Please.” He bit his lip again, purposefully, just to tease Joe.  
  
“God, I can’t stand it,” Joe said and traced Ben’s lips with his fingertip. “That fucking mouth.” He slid his hand up Ben’s thigh.  
  
Ben couldn’t believe his heart hadn’t beat right through his chest when Joe made contact with him. He pulled him down into another messy kiss.  
  
“Please,” he said again.  
  
Joe smirked against Ben’s mouth. “Anything for you.”

  


Lying in Joe’s bed with his skin sticking to the sheets with sweat, Ben tried to catch his breath. He’d had some pretty amazing climaxes throughout his life but what he had just experienced with Joe had been mind-blowing. No one had ever been so responsive to his body and so considerate with him, and both of them had been so ravenous with each other that Ben could already see slight bruises forming on Joe's neck, and Ben's could feel the soreness on his own throat from repeated hickeys, and his lips felt swollen and slick with both of their saliva.  
  
His chest rose and fall rapidly, only starting to calm when Joe placed his hand over Ben’s heart and cuddled up against him.  
  
“Are you okay?” Joe asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Ben managed to say. “Better than okay.” He ran his hand through his hair, his scalp damp with sweat, and exhaled.  
  
“You look so hot right now,” Joe remarked, smiling against Ben’s shoulder.  
  
“Literally.” Ben wrapped his arm around Joe and swung his leg over his hip, pulling him as close as possible. “Fuck, I want a cigarette but I don’t wanna get up.”  
  
“We figured out how you can quit,” Joe replied. “We just have to do this whenever you have a nicotine craving.”  
  
“That’ll backfire. I’ll just end up wanting sex constantly.”  
  
“Well, _I_ don’t think that’s a bad thing.” Joe smirked. “It’s a good substitute.”  
  
Ben was inclined to agree but he also knew there was no feeling quite like a cigarette after sex and he wanted that final rush of dopamine. Would he have stayed in bed with Joe forever if the universe allowed him? Absolutely. But considering he would have to get up sometime and there was no better time than right then, so he could succumb to his addiction, he managed to untangle himself from Joe.  
  
“No, come back,” Joe groaned, reaching across the bed for Ben, who was putting his boxers back on.  
  
Ben smiled and leaned down over Joe, kissing him. “Come out on the balcony with me,” he said.  
  
Joe groaned again but sat up, following suit, and started to put his clothes back on. “The things I do for you,” he said under his breath.  
  
“I know,” Ben replied and pulled Joe into another kiss.

  


Being on the balcony with Joe was entirely different than being on the fire escape by himself. Joe still had his arms wrapped around him as he smoked and Ben couldn’t help but smile the entire time--he’d never been so _adored_.  
  
He exhaled smoke and turned to Joe. “If I could spend every night like this--maybe I wouldn’t miss London so much,” Ben said.  
  
Joe’s eyes glimmered under the moonlight. “What’s stopping you?”  
  
“I have to become independent.”  
  
“You can be independent and still be smothered by me, right?”  
  
Ben chuckled. “Of course. I just can’t place all of my emotional needs on you.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s fair.” Joe nuzzled Ben’s shoulder. “You’ll get used to it, I promise. And I know it’s not like London at all, but I can’t say this enough--I am so glad you’re here.”  
  
“I am too,” Ben said as he took another drag, but he only half-believed the words as he spoke them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Ben and Joe just being newlyweds again, ya know? I miss their instagram posts.  
> Bring Hardzello Back 2020.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the rumors are true--I'm back at it again, making Ben a Sad Boi.

" _When I fall apart  
your needle sews my heart._"

\---  


Nothing was working--taking photographs, going to the gym, strained phone calls with his agent and reading through scripts, forcing himself to go to the local theaters and mill about, walking around Brooklyn--none of it was working for Ben, so he decided he would just go to bed.  
He knew it was far from acceptable. It was still late afternoon but he felt exhausted, physically and emotionally, so he kicked off his sneakers and curled himself under the covers.  
  
It had been almost three months and Ben still was not acclimated. He only felt safe and comfortable when he was with Joe, which had just made him feel even worse about himself, especially when he could see the concern in Joe’s eyes when he looked at him as he struggled to do just about anything. He had just become so lethargic and unmotivated and Joe could tell but, after multiple conversations, it seemed like even he didn’t know what to say. Joe would kiss him softly, run his fingers through his hair, and oftentimes even make him tea and it _did_ help. Ben only wished it was all he needed.  
  
It was _definitely_ all he wished he needed--he still wanted to crawl into a hole sometimes when he saw the looks that Joe gave him or when he laced his fingers through his without saying a word. Ben would rather face the verbal discussions about his moping around, oversleeping, and general lack of care than merely _see_ Joe tormented by his own internal struggle--they had both wanted to just be together and Ben was angry with himself for not being able to do what he had waited for for so long.  
  
Under the covers, he sighed and rolled over onto his side, curling his legs into himself, not feeling as though he could really fall asleep, but ready to force himself to so he wouldn’t have to deal with the world for a little while.

  


His phone repeatedly vibrating under his chest woke Ben up. His body felt so heavy that it took all his effort just to lift himself off the mattress momentarily to retrieve it and, of course, it was multiple missed calls from Joe. He laid on his back and, after dialing Joe’s number, closed his eyes again.  
  
“Ben?” Joe answered, sounding mildly panicked.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Were you sleeping?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
There was a brief pause before Joe said, “I’m outside. I brought food.”  
  
Ben furrowed his brow, wishing Joe could just teleport up there, but managed to swing himself over the edge of the bed and clumsily go down and unlock the door for Joe, who was holding two plastic bags full of Chinese takeout boxes.  
  
“Jesus, Ben,” Joe said as he followed him up the stairs.  
  
“What?” Ben replied with more aggression in his tone than he had intended.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Joe said, stepping inside the loft after Ben and placing the bags on the counter. “Are you okay?”  
  
Ben nodded and sat down on one of the kitchen bar stools. “I’m just tired today.”  
  
Joe wrapped his arms around Ben, who, after a moment, reciprocated, pulling Joe’s torso against his face, pressing his cheek into Joe’s abdomen.  
  
“I just wanna know you’re okay,” Joe said quietly, stroking Ben’s hair.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Ben didn’t want to ever let Joe go. He squeezed him tighter and said, “I’m really sorry. I’m--I’m dragging you down. This isn’t what people--what _partners_ should do to each other.”  
  
“Please don’t think of it like that,” Joe replied, moving back a few inches so he could place his hands on Ben’s shoulders. “I just--I don’t know what to do.”  
  
“Me either,” Ben said and managed a defeated laugh. He really didn’t know.  
  
“I shouldn’t have asked you to move,” Joe said, leaning against the counter. “That was really selfish of me.”  
  
“You didn’t even ask me. Not like that. I decided to move on my own,” Ben said and slumped down on the stool even more.  
  
Hearing that from Joe felt like someone punched him in the stomach--he never wanted Joe to think he had made any sort of mistake. What Ben had said was true, he _had_ ultimately moved on his own accord, he just wasn’t adjusting like either of them thought he would. That was it. He reached over and took Joe’s hand in his, instantly comforted by his touch.  
  
“I know, I know,” Joe replied. “But I feel like--I sort of gave you an unspoken ultimatum before. That wasn’t fair to you.”  
  
Ben looked up at him. “Would you have still really been with me if I had stayed?”  
  
“Yeah,” Joe said, somewhat uneasily, then added more defiantly, “Yeah, Ben. I would have been with you either way. Definitely.” He smoothed his thumb over Ben’s knuckles.  
  
With that reassurance, Ben felt a little more lively, or at least more able to function at a base level. He stood up, slowly letting Joe’s hand slip away from him, and went to the fridge. He retrieved the Brita pitcher Joe had actually bought for him and poured water in a glass from the cupboard, chugging it in one go, then wiped his chin with his sleeve.  
  
“I’m starving,” he said, sort of meaning it, sort of just trying to show Joe that he would, eventually, be alright. 

  


Ben almost felt back to normal as he sat with Joe at the kitchen table, surrounded by the takeout boxes. They were able to talk like they always had but the conversation was permeated by long pauses in which Ben couldn’t figure out if Joe was waiting to broach the subject of his emotional state even more. He knew he just needed to find some consistency, to find some work and to possibly just throw himself into the world of Brooklyn instead of slowly wading into it.  
  
Joe cracked open his fortune cookie and held the little slip of paper close to his face. “‘The night life is for you,’” he read and looked at Ben. “I don’t know. What do you think?”  
  
“‘Purple Rain,’” Ben reminded him with a smirk.  
  
“Ah, how could I forget? China Restaurant just knows me so well.”  
  
Ben chuckled and split his fortune cookie open, not really wanting to read what it had to say despite it being nonsense anyway.  
  
“‘Disbelief destroys the magic,’” he quoted from the paper, looking at it for another couple of seconds before setting it down on the table. “Well--I suppose I agree.”  
  
“‘It’s a _kind_ of magic,” Joe quipped.  
  
Ben leaned back in his chair and sighed. “So my plan for tomorrow is to scout this set that’s being built in the city,” he said. “Apparently there’s some action movie that’s in its very early stages.”  
  
“You’re interested in it?”  
  
“Honestly I’m not sure what it is yet. But I think pushing myself back into a role is--is something I need to do right now.”  
  
Joe smiled reassuringly. “Definitely. That’s awesome, Benny.”  
  
Actually saying his plan out loud made Ben more sure of himself and he felt more compelled to stick to the plan. His agent was still networking and emailing him consistently but he wanted to make sure he found a role close enough to Joe, preferably still in New York, not only to stay near his new partner but also just to keep forcing him to get used to the new city.  
  
“I really am sorry I’ve been such a drag lately,” Ben said and looked at Joe, who met him with a sympathetic smile. “I’m trying.”  
  
“I know you are, Benny,” Joe replied and reached across the table for Ben’s hand. “Believe it or not, you _are_ becoming independent here. Soon enough I might have to go back to relying on Cardboard Ben for companionship.”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Ben said and stood up to start clearing away the plates and boxes. “I’m offended you would even suggest such a thing.”  
  
Joe went behind him and slipped Ben’s fortune in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Just remember Benny--fortune favors the bold.”

  


The still-in-progress movie set didn’t look like much when Ben started to wander around the outskirts of it: a few shipping container-type structures, wooden beams here and there, unknown elements still being built, and the crew hammering and sawing away. The sounds of manual labor were almost refreshing in comparison to the sounds of the city streets outside of it, and they were almost able to drown out most of it.  
  
His agent was already working on trying to get him the part, that is, after his agent figured out which part it was, exactly. Ben wondered if going back to television would be better for its consistency and stability--no surprises. Then again, he wondered if something different and possibly more exciting, especially physically, was what he needed. He missed working on the Bohemian Rhapsody set--playing in a band in front of a real audience, even if the whole thing was ultimately fabricated, was a rush he had never felt before and hadn't felt since the film had wrapped. Learning the drums and working with Roger Taylor, the rock god himself, and then becoming an actual rock star had truly been a dream come true, and the adrenaline rushes throughout the entire six month period had fueled Ben in a way he never would have thought.  
  
If fortune really did favor the bold, why couldn’t Ben just finally receive his reward of comfort and rehabilitation from his move to New York? It had been a bold move--actually, even just kissing Joe to begin with had been a bold move.

Ben tipped over a wooden crate sitting nearby and sat down, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He had wanted this day to be a productive one or at least just a better one, but he just felt bored and still out of place.  
  
Thankfully, Gwil answered his call.  
  
“Hey Ben,” Gwil said, his accent giving Ben an immediate sense of home.  
  
“Gwil, thank god.”  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
Ben sighed and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. “I’m struggling, mate,” he said as he lit one.  
  
“It seems that way.”  
  
“Is it bad how much I miss being home?” Ben asked, flicking ash onto his sneaker and kicking it away. “I mean, I never realized just how depressing this would be.”  
  
“I think it’s normal, honestly. Doesn’t mean it’s not hard, but I can’t imagine not aching to be back home.” Gwil paused then asked, “How are you and Joe?”  
  
Ben smiled then and he was glad Gwil couldn’t see the giddy joy that washed over his face. “Good. Great, actually.” He took another drag. “Joe makes me feel safe here. He’s the best--well, the only good part of my day.”  
  
Gwil snickered on the other end. “Ben, you’re a man in love.”  
  
The smile on Ben’s face grew even wider. “I know. It’s so strange,” he said. “A man in love and just trying to find his place in New York. You know what I found though?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I went to this park a few days ago and I came across this tree--you know the one, it’s very tall and it has those spiky green balls,” Ben explained. “I’ve seen those in London my whole life.”  
  
“Oh, I know what you’re talking about. I can’t think of the name.”  
  
“I took some pictures of it.” Ben took a drag and added, “Bad ones. But the point is, it was like I was back home for a brief moment.”  
  
It was Gwil’s turn to sigh. “I miss you being here too, actually. Sometimes I wish life could have just stayed within the realm of the four of us,” he said. “It was such--just--just such pure fun.”  
  
“I know. I miss it,” Ben replied, flicking more ash onto the concrete and watching it float away with the breeze. “Life’s never been the same. Joe still won’t stop listening to Queen.”  
  
Gwil laughed. “Me either.”  
  
Ben smiled, wishing he could see Gwil’s face, the Brian May clone that he was. “I just feel so sad right now,” he confessed. “And I can tell that Joe knows I’m sad just from looking at me. Which leads to me to thinking, do I just need to cover this up more? Do I need to be an actor all the time?”  
  
“No, Ben. You’ve got to talk to him,” Gwil said. “Joe gets it. You remember him telling us all about his Nirvana phase.”  
  
“God, I guess I’ll be grateful he doesn’t play Nirvana non-stop then,” Ben replied with a chuckle. “I don’t think I could handle that right now. But really Gwil, it’s hard to talk to him about it sometimes. I feel like I’m letting him down.”  
  
“Why? Because you don’t like New York?”  
  
“Not yet anyway. But yes, exactly. And--” Ben hesitated, taking another drag. “And sometimes I genuinely wish I’d never moved. Obviously I’d want to be with Joe and ultimately I guess I’m happy I did, but--” He trailed off, staring at the concrete.  
  
“No, I get it, mate,” Gwil replied softly. “You totally uprooted yourself and your life. It’s scary.” He paused for a second then asked, “Do you feel like you resent Joe?”  
  
Ben had been bringing the cigarette up to his lips as Gwil asked him that. He paused, hand mid-air, then dropped it back by his ankle. “No, no way,” he answered. “But point taken--I can’t let it get to that, you know?”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“You know what I miss? Drumming. Like, I miss actually drumming.”  
  
“You brought your kit over, right?”  
  
“No, I sold it.”  
  
“Ben, what the--”  
  
“Except Roger’s part, I saved that,” Ben quickly assured Gwil. “But I miss it.”  
  
“Maybe it’s gauche of me to say, mate but...get a new one.”  
  
Ben considered that, inhaling smoke. “I might.”  
  
Talking with Gwil reminded Ben of being home--he felt lighter and far less tense once they hung up and he sat on the wooden crate, finishing the cigarette and just listening to the sounds of the construction around him. New York was throwing him off entirely and then he had to ask himself, was he dissatisfied with the city or dissatisfied with something else?

  


Ben wanted to do something nice for Joe but he wasn’t entirely sure of what--he knew Joe would love going to a theme park or something classically fun and mildly immature, so he scoured the pages of Google and Yelp trying to find a specific place. He found an outdoor mini golf course that was cheap and not too far, then he felt like he needed something else--dinner? Drinks? Ben couldn’t remember the last time he had tried to plan an actual date. Throughout his time in New York he had gotten used to him and Joe going out for casual meals and hanging out at home--he realized he probably hadn’t seemed up for anything more than that anyhow.  
  
A picnic--that’s what Joe would appreciate. Plus the closest park was only half a mile away, which still meant Ben would have to tote around a basket for a while, but it would be worth it.

  


“I’m so upset you won,” Ben murmured as he and Joe walked to Sunset Park. Despite Ben’s finesse for athletics, Joe had kicked his ass in mini-golf. Apparently Ben’s hand-eye coordination wasn’t as good as he had thought. He shifted the weighty basket, which he had ventured out to Pier One to buy, unknowing that it was one of the most notoriously overpriced home good stores, and he had panic-bought the first basket he had seen.  
  
“I may be able to beat you in put-put, but I’m pretty sure you could destroy me in rugby,” Joe replied. He bent over and tried to pop open the lid of the basket. “So is this a legit picnic or something I’ll be totally surprised by?”  
  
“This _was_ supposed to surprise you,” Ben said. “But I guess me carrying this thing around kind of destroys the glamour. Joe, ‘disbelief destroys the magic.’”  
  
Joe held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, Benny, you’re right.” 

  


Ben hadn't packed any sort of sheet or blanket, given that he had stuffed the basket to the gills, so he hoped Joe wouldn’t mind sitting straight on the grass. As Joe got situated and plucked a single blade from the ground and began fiddling with it, Ben opened the basket and began to assemble--he had gone out and gotten specialty cheeses, meats, fresh fruit and he had even gone to a _separate_ specialty store to choose individual chocolates he thought, and hoped, Joe would like. Not to mention the bottle of wine which was weighing the basket down more than anything else.  
  
“Benny,” Joe uttered as he seemed to marvel at the presentation. “This is _so_ nice.”  
  
Ben smiled and peeled the foil from the neck of the wine bottle--he had been clever enough to not buy a corked bottle--and unscrewed the cap. “I wanted to repay you,” he said.  
  
“You don’t owe me anything, Benny. But I do really love this.” Joe leaned over and kissed Ben’s forehead. “Thank you.”  
  
“At the very least I think we both could use a nice...date,” Ben said and handed Joe the bottle of wine. “I did not bring glasses.”  
  
“Understandable.” Joe grinned and took a swig.  
  
Unsurprisingly Joe gushed over all the food Ben had brought for the two of them but Ben still blushed, still feeling relief from the approval. He had learned long before that it wasn’t difficult for him to make Joe happy but, in a way, that made it harder for Ben. He felt like he had to work even harder to truly impress Joe or outshine his usual efforts, and he was glad that the saccharine sweet and cliche date night had paid off.  
  
“I’ve been thinking about drumming again,” Ben announced as he and Joe worked on finishing the wine.  
  
“Are they making a movie just about Roger?” Joe asked, smirking.  
  
“God, I wish. No, seriously, I kind of want to just do it, just for fun.”  
  
“Yeah, why not? You’re an experienced musician now. You’ve played in front of screaming crowds.”  
  
Ben lit a cigarette after Joe passed the bottle to him. “I feel like I need a change,” he said.  
  
Joe raised his eyebrows. “A change _other_ than moving to another country?”  
  
Ben chuckled through the inhalation of the smoke and nodded. “Right?”  
  
Sitting on the cool grass and dirt, as the sun just began to set behind them made Ben think that he could really get used to the city. If he just focused on the slightly scratchy blades beneath him trying to poke through his clothes, and the blue sky broken with the golden orb of the sun and Joe’s profile as he downed the last of the wine, his neck a column of milky skin, Ben could drown out the sounds of traffic and the couples walking on the path nearby and the planes overhead, and he would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really liked writing this chapter and I'm already working on the next, which I think will be a nice little change of pace. Thanks for all the love<3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Joe's POV again! God, that man is so adorable and I cannot stop watching interviews of him. I also truly wish there were more interviews about BoRhap with Ben. He just had to do it to us.  
> This was another fun chapter to write (they've all been fun, really) so I hope you, my darlings, enjoy.

Ben had looked so cute carrying that ridiculous picnic basket around, Joe could hardly wait to get back to his apartment. He was feeling the wine a little bit, and he could tell Ben was too based on how flushed his chest and neck were getting, and he wanted to keep the night going, maybe pop another bottle or even have some shots--Joe was feeling brave. It didn’t help that Ben had even dressed up a little for their date, wearing a slightly loose white button-down and dark jeans versus his usual athletic attire, which made Joe want him even more.  
Ben always made him happy--just sitting with him in silence was enough to make Joe feel like his heart would explode--but Ben had gone above and beyond that night, catering to him in such a thoughtful and meticulous way. He had also seemed to be in better spirits--the heavy veil of depression had been lifted, at least on that night, and Joe was hoping Ben was just as eager as he was to get physical again--it had been a while and Joe was reaching his threshold.  
  
He had been lucky enough to have been busy, mostly able to stave away the sexual starvation, with writing and collaborating with other people in the business, even looking at other possible roles, and Joe felt guilty for having asked Ben to move and him being massively unhappy. Joe’s life had already been well-established in New York and felt like he had torn Ben away from his life in London and, no matter how often Ben told him that’s not how it was, it weighed on his mind.  
  
Ben groaned when they entered the apartment, though it was nothing new--he commented on the cardboard version of himself nearly every time he was there.  
  
“Joe, my god, please just get rid of this,” Ben said, sneering at it. “I mean, look at it. It’s basically garbage at this point.”  
  
Joe pretended to cover Cardboard Ben’s ears. “Don’t say that. He’s not garbage.”  
  
“You have creased it to hell,” Ben remarked, glowering over Joe and Cardboard Ben.  
  
Joe beamed up at him. “Well, I had to take him home, right?”  
  
Ben broke into a smile which he tried to hide, turning his face away, and the rippling of nerves and adoration rose in Joe’s gut. It was as if fireworks burst inside him whenever he was able to make Ben smile so much that he became shy and tried to will his smile away--even better when Joe was able to make him laugh, that deep, short-lived laugh that made Joe just want to lock him in his arms forever.  
  
Joe did end up opening another bottle of wine, applauding himself silently for always having extra bottles on hand at the right times, and poured it into two glasses, swishing back over to the two Ben’s before clicking on the mini stereo he kept next to the TV.  
  
“I know you’re gonna say, ‘Joe, no, please stop, let’s listen to something else,’” Joe said as he scrolled through his phone. “But I just have to listen to Queen right now.”  
  
“Only if you play ‘I’m In Love With My Car,’” Ben replied, taking a sip of the wine.  
  
“‘With my hand on your grease gun,’” Joe sang, doing his the best impersonation of Roger that he could manage. He finally decided on playing the 1975 live version of “The Lap of the Gods” first, the twinkling sounds of Freddie’s piano playing filling the room.  
  
He went over to Ben and held his hand out. “Come on, Benny.”  
  
Ben raised an eyebrow. “What?”  
  
“Dance with me.”  
  
“Joe, you know I can’t dance.”  
  
“I’ve seen you dance. Only when you’ve had a few drinks and not particularly well. But you still look so good trying.”  
  
“Oh thanks, that makes me feel great,” Ben replied with an eye roll but took Joe’s hand, letting him lead him to the center of the living area.  
  
Watching Ben sway only slightly and terribly awkwardly was actually very adorable in Joe’s eyes. “Let me help, then,” he said and pulled Ben closer, his hands on his hips, guiding his movements.  
  
Ben looked so nervous--it had always been interesting to Joe how easily he became nervous, whether it be around Joe himself or interviewers or other actors--anyone really--since Ben was so intense-looking much of the time, as if he held all the cards. Joe had been slightly nervous himself before they had officially met and before the band had all started shooting--starting with Live Aid, of course; Rami could never let that go--but the first day, it was as if he, Ben, Gwil and Rami were all instant friends.  
  
And with Ben, Joe had felt that pull to him as soon as he had heard Ben laugh--the sudden change to him with an open-mouth smile, his eyes sparking with a new light, and the deep-throated chuckle had sent Joe into a tailspin when he first witnessed it.  
  
Ben started to move along with Joe and as Roger went into a wailing falsetto, Ben smiled.  
  
“I love that,” he said, his fingers gripping Joe’s waist a little tighter.  
  
Joe bent down slightly to meet Ben’s level and kissed him softly, the taste of wine and cigarettes still on his lips. “I love _you_ ,” he said quietly, which made Ben blush and, in turn, made Joe’s blood flow through his own body even harder.  
  
As he looked down at the floor, his cheeks pink, Ben bit his lip, making Joe feel as if he was about to become a frenzied madman and tear both of their clothes off.  
  
“God, you have to stop that,” Joe remarked and pulled Ben close, holding his jaw and kissing him again, his hand moving from Ben’s hip to his ass.  
  
Ben leaned into it, almost toppling Joe over as he kissed him back, but he pressed his hand against Joe’s back to keep him upright, his other hand already going for Joe’s fly.  
  
“Wait, wait, wait,” Joe said, breaking away from the kiss. As much as he wanted to ravage Ben right then and there, he really wanted to go slowly. It had been a little while since they had been so intimate and, as much as he hated the anticipation, Joe also found forcing himself to hold back made the endgame even better.  
  
To Joe’s delight, Ben pouted. “What?” he asked.  
  
“I wanna take my time with you,” Joe replied, admiring Ben’s face, which made him blush even more and turn away. “Do I offend?” Joe asked with a chuckle.  
  
“I’m still just not used to someone looking at me that _hard_ ,” Ben answered.  
  
“It’s shocking you never noticed it before. I’ve been looking at you like this for a very long time.”  
  
“Oh, I noticed, but--you know, back then it wasn’t...it wasn’t real,” Ben said and offered a small smile.  
  
“God, it was always real,” Joe replied, rolling his eyes and leading Ben to the couch. He sat down on the center cushion and pulled Ben on top of him, his insanely beautiful, strong, fair British boyfriend--that word still seemed unreal to Joe--straddling him.  
  
Ben struggled with the stretch but he managed to reach over to the end table to retrieve his glass of wine. As he took a large sip, tipping the glass back, a little stream of the deep red liquid dribbled down his chin, neck, and immediately stained his shirt with droplets that had already soaked through.  
  
“Fuck me,” Ben muttered, looking down at the mess, the wine still clinging to his chin.  
  
Joe gripped the back of Ben’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, the residual wine then tainting his own skin, and it made Ben’s skin taste even better, though he didn’t know that were possible. He then unbuttoned the top four buttons of Ben’s shirt--the wine that had soaked through had left a very slight wet sheen on his chest and Joe sighed as he looked at it.  
  
He coerced Ben forward again, smothering his chest in kisses, which made Ben giggle in between quiet moans, bringing Joe even closer to the edge. Joe licked the sticky residue from his chest, unbuttoning his shirt in its entirety, and ran his hands all over Ben’s abdomen, always amazed by the definition of his abdominal muscles and the firm skin.  
  
Ben bent his head down and kissed Joe’s neck, sucking where he had left kisses. Although hickeys weren’t something Joe liked to parade around, he didn’t mind so much when it was Ben who had given them to him. He would wear a turtleneck or a scarf the next day, when the hickeys were still freshly plum-colored and looming, but as the bruises faded he would display them openly, feeling a little sense of pride when he thought someone was staring at them, and he would think about how his hunk of a boyfriend marked him as his own.  
  
“Oh fuck,” Joe uttered when Ben slid down him, kissing his neck one last time before situating himself on his knees, his hands on Joe’s thighs. The sight of Ben looking up at him as he went after Joe’s fly with his teeth, actually managing to undo the button in one go and then, after a couple seconds of getting the right grip, pulling down the zipper, was unreal.  
  
“You’re very skilled at that,” Joe noted. “Who knew.”  
  
Ben just smirked up at him.  
  
Joe tried to keep his eyes on Ben as much as he could, keeping his fingers locked in his hair, as Queen still played around them. Despite Ben’s initial reservations, and Joe’s as well, about the new sex life they had started to share, Joe had quickly realized that Ben needed very little coaching. Sometimes he still had a hard time believing Ben was really into him, even when they were fucking--Ben often referred to it as “making love,” which both endeared Joe and made him want to gag from the overused cliche--but he had to remind himself that it was Ben who had actually laid his cards out on the table first.  
  
Joe could just fall into Ben’s green eyes and get swept away forever.  
  
  
  
“Wow, the most adorable couple in all of New York,” Rami declared as Ben and Joe sat down in front of him. It was half-chance, half-prearranged that the three of them had been able to come together for dinner, and Joe felt like it was almost Freddie, Roger and John together again, while Brian was somewhere out there working on another dissertation.  
  
Joe smiled. “I’d like to think so.”  
  
“I never would’ve thought,” Rami said, flashing Ben and Joe a coy smile.  
  
“Seriously?” Ben replied. “I thought we were always so obvious.”  
  
“Well, don’t get me wrong, you two were obvious, but I never thought you two would actually _fuck_.”  
  
“Jesus,” Ben muttered, glancing around the restaurant.  
  
“Well, we have,” Joe announced. “We have officially fucked. More than once, might I add.”  
  
“Wow, well, I’m proud of the two of you. Honestly, it was about time,” Rami said. “Those videos Joe made left very little to be desired.”  
  
Joe raised his eyebrows and nodded, chuckling to himself, as Ben glared at him.  
  
“What? Those were hilarious. And you instigated the last one,” Joe said to Ben.  
  
Ben held his hands up. “You’re right. Really, I’m just mad Cardboard Ben got so much publicity.”  
  
“And how is the real Ben liking New York?” Rami asked, sliding his glass of water toward him and leaning over to sip from the straw.  
  
Joe looked over at Ben to gauge his reaction but Ben seemed to display ambivalence more than anything else, shrugging slightly as he looked out the window before looking back at Rami.  
“I’m getting used to it. It’s a big change,” Ben said.  
  
“No kidding,” Rami replied. “Also, the last time I talked to our dear Gwilym, he would not stop talking about how much he misses you.”  
  
Ben smiled. “I miss him too.”  
  
“Well, our Benny Boy here is thinking about picking up the drums again,” Joe chimed in. “So maybe we can all be a band again.”  
  
“Count me out, you all know I can’t sing for shit,” Rami said. “However, I’m thinking of getting all of you, the whole band, out to LA for my very late and very-much-needed birthday celebration.”  
  
Joe glanced at Ben--they had talked about their respective opinions of LA before, with Ben holding mostly borderline-negative opinions of it, but he hoped that them traveling together, plus them going only for Rami, would be a fun experience for the both of them.  
  
“Well, we’ll need details, I suppose,” Ben said.  
  
Those words alone managed to comfort Joe a bit--he had spent the preceding three months being so worried about Ben, constantly unsure of what more to do, but then he realized that Ben really was becoming independent in New York. His independence had never not been there, it had just been temporarily dismantled with the move, but Ben was always resilient.  
  
Still, as unfair as it was to think, the upside to Ben’s period of lethargy and homesickness had been Joe feeling so utterly _needed_. He liked taking care of other people but he especially liked taking care of Ben, and the rewards were great--like when Ben would curl into him as they slept, or when he would look at Joe with glowing adoration when he steeped an exceptionally good cup of tea for him.  
  
He wanted Ben to be comfortable and independent but he still wanted to be needed like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where would I be without this fandom? I don't even know.  
> In all seriousness, I hope my deep adoration for this pair and my metaphorical hard-on for Ben Hardy never dies. It's all I know at this point.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sweethearts; I went to a party last night which I hoped would give me more "inspiration" for this chapter but I don't think Rami would play beer pong at the beautiful age of 37. Still, they did play a fair bit of Queen and someone even tried to tackle "Bohemian Rhapsody" during karaoke, which was brave.  
> Nevertheless, this one was tricky to write but I thrust myself into it and there was no turning back. Also, it's Joe's POV again.

  
_"Why you actin' vain for my love, vain for my love_  
_When you got everything that I want?"_  
  
\---  


Ben arrived at Joe’s apartment with a single duffel bag full of clothes and the bare essentials, whereas Joe had a full rolling suitcase _plus_ a duffel bag laid out on his bed. Ben chucked his bag neck to them and sat down on the edge of the mattress, so Joe leaned back from the bathroom sink and peeked out at him.  
  
“Is that all?” he asked, eyeing Ben’s lonesome bag.  
  
“Yeah, it’s two nights, Joe.”  
  
Joe couldn’t tell if Ben looked stressed or just tired, but his hair was slightly disheveled and he seemed to have arrived in the clothes he had slept in. Joe was feeling slightly on edge about their trip to LA--of course he was excited to see Rami and Gwil again but he was uneasy about how it would be for him and Ben as a legitimate couple. The logistics of things hadn’t changed but the vibe would change within the four of them, not to mention with Rami’s other friends.  
  
Plus he and Ben had booked a hotel together which, again, Joe was very excited about, although it would be like living with Ben for three nights. He often still doubted how much Ben actually loved him--the entire four month period had felt like a dream, especially when he and Ben were in bed together. Joe thought he would never find someone to love, or at least never find someone to love him back in the way he needed, and he sure as hell never thought Ben would have been that person. When Ben would fall asleep first, Joe would sidle up next to him and try to memorize his entire face in his mind and eventually his breathing would slow to the same pace as Ben’s and he would doze off into a real dream, a dream much less interesting than his actual life.  
  
And _that_ was a little weird.  
  
Joe emerged from the bathroom and placed two travel bottles of goo in his own duffel bag. “Three nights, which means three outfits, plus sleeping clothes, plus backup clothes,” he said and bent down to kiss Ben’s forehead. “Gotta be prepared.”  
  
“Now I feel like I severely underpacked,” Ben murmerred.  
  
“You can always borrow some of my clothes, if you need to. But let’s keep in mind your loft is like six blocks away and we can stop there before the flight.”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine. I mean, what is this party anyway?”  
  
“I don’t know, Rami said it was ‘everybody’ at his house and that was about all he said.” Joe looked over to see Ben pout and added, “Yeah, that’s how I feel too. I don’t even know what attire it is.”  
  
“I just don’t--” Ben paused mid sentence and turned to look out the window.  
  
“What?” Joe asked, placing another pair of socks into the suitcase.  
  
Ben sighed. “I’m just worried about--well, the whole thing. It feels sort of weird to be a couple in that scenario?”  
  
Joe zipped up the suitcase and set it on the floor so he could sit next to Ben. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s not like anything has _really_ changed, but we haven’t all been in a group together since we started dating,” he said. “Let alone been in a house full of strangers.”  
  
“I’m not worried about Rami or Gwil. But yeah, the other people. I don’t know. Plus, I hate LA,” Ben reminded him.  
  
“I know, I know. Which is fair. I don’t think LA will ever be for you,” Joe replied and observed Ben’s profile--his strong jaw, clenched as he sat there, the slight protrusion of his brow bone that dipped to those sea-green eyes, all accented by the sturdy, sharp cheekbones--and thought about how he could look at his face all day.  
  
Joe had no plans to ever relocate to LA, despite holding less disdain for it than Ben, but he hoped that Ben would grow to New York. Just hopefully Ben’s love for him would grow along with it--Joe knew he wouldn’t be able to handle a heartbreak. 

  
  


LA didn’t hold a candle to New York. They were considered geographical rivals by everyone in the respective cities but Joe knew New York won--LA might have seemed cleaner at first glance, but the trash crept up insidiously the more you ventured out, and the cloudless sky eventually seemed threatening rather than welcoming. Plus the people were too laidback, too eager to go about their day with smiles, ignoring the trash and the sky and the insane traffic. New Yorkers got a bad rep, Joe felt, and he realized that Ben must have felt the same way about Brooklyn as Joe did about the City of Angels.  
  
The hotel was immaculate, though, even Joe couldn’t deny that, but Ben only regarded with it a glance and a shrug and paraded past Joe to check in. It was another surreal moment when Ben reminded the clerk that it was the two of them staying in the room--watching him take charge and initiate even their check-in, a mundane process, filled Joe with pride and adoration.  
  
The room itself was nothing to sneeze at either, with a huge window overlooking downtown and a massive bed with pristine, tucked-in and folded white sheets. It was luxe, more luxe than Joe was typically used to.  
  
“I like it,” Joe announced, setting his duffel bag on the bed and resting the suitcase by the dresser.  
  
“It’s nice,” Ben said, still looking around with ambivalence. “It’s also quite boring.”  
  
Joe chuckled. “Benny, while I’m inclined to agree, that’s how most of LA is.”  
  
“It seems like it,” Ben said and trailed into the bathroom, flipping on the light so then Joe could only see him in the reflection of the mirror. “Standard bathroom,” Ben called out.  
  
“Try the shower. I wonder how the water pressure is,” Joe told him and a moment later he heard the faucet go and then the bursting of water against tile from the shower head.  
  
“It’s alright,” Ben called back. “Kind of forceful, actually.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Ben emerged, wiping his hand on his pant-leg. “Speaking of, I’m actually going to take a shower. I feel dirty after that plane ride,” he said and pulled his sweatshirt over his head.  
  
Even just looking at Ben, shirtless and disheveled from the plane ride, was enough to make Joe start to salivate. Ben caught him looking and smiled before turning away, either out of embarrassment or to tease him, Joe was never completely sure.  
  
He had convinced Ben to stay the extra day and night so they could spend time together in LA, just the two of them--their first getaway as a couple. Joe had a few restaurants in mind but he hadn’t been sure if Ben had packed dress clothes, so he took a minute to peek in his duffel bag and was pleasantly surprised to see that Ben had indeed packed a dress shirt and real pants--they were creased and crumpled in the bag, but it would do. Ben had even packed a sleek, copper-colored jacket, which Joe nodded at, impressed.  
  
Before all of that though, they had Rami’s belated birthday party that night. Joe wasn’t even sure what he was going to wear since Rami had declined explicit details about what type of party it was, but he hoped it wouldn’t be Rami trying to channel a Freddie Mercury party.  
  
As the shower ran behind the bathroom door, Joe sat on the edge of the bed and looked out at the city--if you just glanced at it quickly, it gave a similar impression as New York, with the massive, towering buildings that were a staple in any overpopulated metropolis, but the buildings were differently shaped, differently colored, and that sky was so goddamn blue it almost hurt to look at.  
  
He had been writing a new screenplay for a while and hadn’t told Ben about it. Well, he hadn’t told him much other than he had been working on something. It wasn’t that Joe was shy about sharing his works, even in-progress works, he only felt insecure when it came to Ben. Ben wasn’t a screenwriter but he still valued his creative opinion more than anyone else, and the thought of seeming subpar or flawed or odiously silly was something Joe couldn’t bear.  
  
Another issue was that Joe had scoped out LA as a potential location to shoot the movie he was working on, if and when that happened, which would mean him going across the country for a few months and leaving Ben, or Ben tagging along and being further disoriented. Joe knew that being an adult alone meant relationships were more complicated, and being an actor, writer and director complicated that more, and he felt they both needed stability.  
  
He also knew he was getting ahead of himself. He was still writing and working out the moving parts, nothing was solidified. Joe just wanted Ben and himself to be happy, or at least as happy as they could be together.

  
  


Neither Joe or Ben had ever been to Rami’s house and as they walked from the uber to Rami’s front door, they both paused and exchanged a relieved look. The house was large but more modest, although the entire thing was made of brick, possibly an estate rather than a mansion, and pink and blue hyacinths were dotted along the walkway. Music was audible from the backyard, and Joe could hear the overlapping chatter of voices and the shuffling movements of people.  
  
“Do we go in the front or…” Ben asked, glancing at the gate to the backyard.  
  
“I’m gonna say we go directly to the backyard,” Joe replied, shuffling the gift bag for Rami from his left hand to his right and reaching into his pocket for his phone. “Gwil’s here,” he said after looking at the screen.  
  
Ben’s face lit up at that announcement and he led the two of them to the gate. Past Ben’s Joe could see all these strangers moving about, the sky still bright behind them. He didn’t see Gwil, which was surprising, nor did he see Rami, but Ben trudged forward anyway and seconds later they were transported into a real LA backyard birthday party.  
  
The smell of cigarette smoke permeated the air, so Joe knew Ben wouldn’t have any trouble mingling. They both stood awkwardly just inside the gate, the only comfort Joe could take away in that moment was when Ben reached down and gently gripped his wrist, the tender contact feeling as though his skin was cooled and he could breathe easier, only broken when Gwil approached and Ben broke away, throwing his arms around their friend.  
  
“Gwil, mate, long time no see,” Ben exclaimed, muffled by him pressing his face against Gwil’s shoulder, his back to Joe.  
  
Gwil smiled and hugged him back. “Good to see you,” he said and moved back, looking at Joe. “And Joe, my god. I’ve missed you.”  
  
Joe went in for the hug. “I’ve missed you too man.” It felt really good--really comforting--to see Gwil and hug him. Joe often felt so preoccupied by other things that he was able to go about his days and not feel the deep sentimentality and missing the band, but it was always there underneath it all.  
  
As Gwil pulled back he took note of the gift bag Joe was holding. “What’d you get him?” he asked.  
  
“Mr. Bad Guy on vinyl,” Joe told him. “I can’t remember if Rami even has a record player, but Ben and I thought it would still be appropriate.”  
  
Gwil chuckled. “I swear, sometimes he still acts like Freddie.”  
  
  
He had gone in with no expectations but Joe was still surprised by the party as whole, with it being far more laid-back than he was used to with other parties hosted by actors. Of course, he knew Rami and had known him for a long time, but he was pleasantly surprised by how homey it felt. There was no one or nothing dripping in unnecessary opulence--everyone there was just having a good time. A couple people already seemed to have been drunk, actually, and Joe laughed to himself as he watched one woman tumble back on her heels and grab onto her friend for support. Rami had held up the vinyl out in front of him after he took it out of the bag, admiring it and smiling. He had been more happy with it than Joe anticipated.  
  
“I’m so glad you guys could all come out,” Rami said, sitting across from Joe at the outdoor table he had on the patio. “Even among all these people you don’t know, it’s great that we can all be together.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s really nice,” Joe agreed. “It’s been so long, you know? I know Ben reminisces on BoRhap a lot.”  
  
“I gotta admit, I do too. It really was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”  
  
Joe took a sip of the Bad Boy IPA he had haphazardly decided upon. “It really was. I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” he said.  
  
“Especially now that you and Ben are together,” Rami said, raising his eyebrows and grinning.  
  
“Oh god, you make it sound so creepy. But you’re right.” Ben took another sip. “That does make things different.”  
  
“Joe, I gotta be honest, I was really shocked when Ben moved out to New York.”  
  
Joe could gather why Rami would be shocked by that but he had a moment of panic wondering if Rami was going to accuse him of not being good enough for Ben, although even Joe himself knew that wasn't true, so he asked, “Why?”  
  
“Ben _loves_ London. I mean, of course, right? But Ben always said he wouldn’t leave it,” Rami explained.  
  
The explanation was logical and had no bearing on Joe’s self-esteem but he sighed anyway. “I know. I was surprised too, actually,” he said. “Obviously I’m happy about it, but--”  
  
“But is he?” Rami interrupted, looking at Joe with his head slightly cocked.  
  
Joe went for the beer again. “We’re both working at it, I guess,” he said, feeling small and wanting to leave. Rami hadn’t meant any harm, in fact he was right to ask Joe that question and Joe knew it, but he just wanted to have a good time. He sighed again and asked Rami, “Was I wrong to ask him to move?”  
  
“Well, you asked him if he _wanted_ to move to Brooklyn, right?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Rami thought about it for a moment. “No, then I don’t think that was wrong,” he said. “Ben loves you. He loves you enough to have relocated for you. It’s clear he loved you for a while, man.”  
  
Joe smiled at that. “If only I had been able to know sooner.”  
  
“I think things worked out perfectly,” Rami replied. “Every experience has led up to this one right now, and you two have done it perfectly.”  
  
Rami’s gentle smile made his words even more reassuring. Joe sat back and observed the rest of the party, with the music waxing and waning against the multitudes of conversations and the sun finally setting little by little beyond the trees and the people. He saw a trail of smoke and there was Ben, standing next to Gwil who was the only one out of the small group who wasn’t smoking.  
  
Rami turned around to follow Joe’s gaze. “Bad Ben,” he said, facing Joe again. “Such a bad habit.”  
  
Joe chuckled. As much as he hated the smoking, he couldn’t deny that Ben looked damn sexy doing it. But as looked for a few seconds longer, he saw Ben pass his cigarette to the dark-haired young woman to his right, who took a drag from it and left it dangling in her fingers.  
  
He ultimately knew that interaction was meaningless but Joe also saw it as a shared experience, and the comfort and release he had felt just a minute before was overthrown, his body suddenly then feeling hot and compressed by his clothes, and he just wanted to chuck the bottle of beer and storm out of the backyard. Which would have been absurd, he knew that too, but he felt stupidly overcome with insecurity.  
  
Ben was far more complicated than Joe felt anyone ever gave him credit for, and his sexuality was one of those complications for Joe still, because he had to ask himself, would it have mattered the same if Ben had been sharing a cigarette with a man? Joe wasn’t sure but in that moment he felt too frenzied to linger on the question.  
  
Rami eyed Joe curiously. “What’s wrong?” he asked.  
  
Joe hadn’t realized how much he had been squirming in his seat. “Nothing. Just, yeah, the smoking,” he said.  
  
Rami turned back to look at Ben, who was still talking emphatically with Gwil and the woman. “Oh, Joe,” Rami said, almost scolding. “Really?”  
  
“What?” Joe tried to cover-up his insecurity but his screeching tone gave it away instantly.  
  
“Joe, that’s my friend Lauren.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Rami looked at him and sighed as if he was exhausted by having to explain it all to Joe. “I don’t know if Ben is Lauren’s type but I can tell you this: Ben’s not interested. If you actually paid attention to his body language, you would know that,” he said. “Besides, do we have to go back to how Ben pined after you for like, a year?”  
  
“Alright, Jesus, you’re right,” Joe replied, exhaling and trying to let his muscles relax. “I know. I’m being stupid. Lauren also doesn’t look like she’d put up with Ben anyway.”  
  
Rami smiled. “Not for a second. Ben’s lucky to have you, Joe, but you’re lucky to have him too.” He snagged Joe’s beer and took a sip.  
  
Joe knew that was true and he wanted to believe with every cell in his body that Ben would never leave him for someone else, man _or_ woman, and that he would never betray him in any way. He felt like he was almost there but there was still some lingering, nagging and gnawing doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely the most difficult one to write so far and I apologize if it was a little lackluster. I also didn't include our girl Lucy because I truly know I wouldn't be able to do her justice--writing Rami has been hard enough. :)))


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer for a little less than the length of a usual chapter--I've been super sick this week and was having a hard time focusing, and just wishing Joe and Ben were both here to take care of me.

“That was more fun than I expected,” Ben said to Joe as they exited their uber and walked back into the hotel. “I’m glad Rami liked the record.”  
  
They had stayed late and the sun in LA was finally and totally gone but the copious amount of light coming from every which way almost made an artificial daytime, not so unlike New York, but with an entirely different energy. Nighttime in LA was a little less lively, a little less curious--it was quiet and understated where LA was loud.  
  
Ben _almost_ missed Brooklyn.  
  
During the party he had had too many cigarettes and maybe one too many drinks--he was definitely feeling a buzz from the high alcohol content, craft beers and a couple vodka tonics, and as he looked at Joe in the dim light, he felt giddy and held back an intoxicated grin.  
  
He couldn’t contain it for long--once they were back in the room and Joe had shut and locked the door, Ben grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled Joe into him, kissing him messily on the mouth, his hand on the back of his neck.  
  
“You hit that bar pretty hard, huh?” Joe remarked, his own hands still lingering on Ben’s waist.  
  
“Sorry,” Ben said, feeling his cheeks grow hot, but his hand still lingered on the back of Joe’s neck.  
  
“It’s okay,” Joe assured him and took his jacket off, moving away from Ben’s touch to hang it inside the closet.  
  
Ben didn’t _feel_ like it was okay. Normally Joe would jump at the opportunity to kiss him, drunk or not. Ben kicked his shoes off and removed his own jacket, although he tossed it onto the bed and sat down next to it.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked Joe, who was unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
“Yeah,” Joe said. “Sorry, I’m just--I don’t know, not feeling it tonight.”  
  
_Not feeling it tonight?_ If that was what Joe had had to deal with when Ben was feeling so depressed and lethargic back in New York, he then understood the frustration. He was too buzzed, not to mention he was in a fairly ritzy hotel room with a giant bed just screaming to be desecrated, to not want to “get down and make love” to Joe.  
  
Ben pouted, trying to get Joe to change his mind.  
  
Joe noticed and chuckled. “Don’t do that to me,” he said.  
  
“What’s wrong, Joe, seriously?”  
  
Joe stood in front of him with his arms crossed, his shirt fully unbuttoned and the white wife beater hiding his skin--only a few stray chest hairs peeked out from above his forearms. “I just--God, this is embarrassing. I feel like a child,” he said with a sigh. “But I felt really insecure earlier.”  
  
Ben furrowed his brow. “Why?”  
  
Joe sighed again. “When I saw you sharing a cigarette with Rami’s friend, Lauren. It was just like, this intimate thing I wasn’t sharing with you. Plus, she looked like she was sort of into you,” he explained.  
  
Ben couldn’t help but laugh. “Was she? I didn’t even notice. But I liked her. She was fun.” He saw Joe slightly grimace at that and said, “You don’t have to feel insecure about that. Or about anyone else, Joe, because I’m always thinking about you.”  
  
One side of Joe’s mouth upturned. “Really?”  
  
“Obviously. We share everything intimately, right? You really have nothing to be insecure about.”  
  
“Yes I do, Ben,” Joe replied with an eye-roll.  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Well, for one, I see how people look at you. And while a lot of that fills me with pride, like, ‘no, he’s _my_ boyfriend,’ it does make me insecure,” Joe said. “Plus, you just seamlessly blended into that party. I envy that. I know how insecure _you_ can be too, but you hide it so well. People can see my awkwardness. They can’t see through you, though.”  
  
When Ben looked at, listened to or plainly observed Joe, he saw someone who was unabashedly themselves. Joe was funny and charming but best of all, he was truly kind-hearted and loving. Ben knew how insecurity worked, especially his own, but he still saw Joe as someone who should have no insecurities to fret over--he was perfect, even if he was sometimes awkward and clumsy. Joe was always authentic.  
  
“I don’t feel like I hide it that well,” Ben said. “You know my giveaways, anyway. And look, Joe, I get it. But you don’t need to feel insecure about me.” He reached for Joe and hooked his finger through one the belt loops. “I really fucking love you,” he said as he pulled Joe into him.  
  
Joe held Ben’s face in his hands. “You’re even drunker than I thought,” he said.  
  
“I may be drunk but I’m right,” Ben replied and gripped Joe’s hips tighter.  
  
“Ben, I look at you and see an angel.”  
  
“And?”  
  
Joe sighed and rested his hands on Ben’s shoulders. “Ben, come on. I know I’m average--alright, maybe a step above average--so it’s hard to not be insecure.”  
  
“That’s really sad. Because when I look at you, I also see an angel.” Ben nestled the side of his face against Joe’s abdomen. “Have you forgotten your outlandish fans? They think you’re an angel, too.”  
  
It really did make Ben sad. He always saw Joe as someone who was confident in his own way--he knew what he wanted, where he was going and how to get there--and he really thought Joe was an angel. Especially _his_ angel. Ben wished he could make Joe see it somehow but he knew it wasn’t that easy--Joe often had to coach Ben out of his own insecurities, especially during his time settling in New York, and he felt like he owed Joe so much for that.  
  
Joe ran his fingers through Ben’s hair. “Thank you,” he said. “For the reminder.”

  
  


The sun aggressively cut through the slats in the curtains while Ben lifted his head from the pillow. The mattress beneath him was so firm, far firmer than he liked, but he stretched against it and tucked his legs into his chest. When he turned his head on the pillow, there was Joe, breathing deeply away from him so Ben could only see his shoulder rise and fall.  
  
It was their first getaway as a couple and their first time spending nights in a hotel--anywhere but home--together and looking at Joe’s backside, Ben felt a joy he hadn’t felt since Joe had crawled into bed with him for the first time back in Brooklyn. It was something new, just like that night. Going away together had made it seem more official to Ben, like they really were some power couple, sleuthy and quiet but still mad for one another.  
  
Neither one of them were much for PDA anywhere they went but Ben loved to run his fingertips down Joe’s wrist when they were waiting in line for coffee together, or stretching his legs underneath a table so his calves could rest on Joe’s shins. Sometimes when Joe stood behind Ben, he would slide his hand into his back pocket, or when they were out walking around, Joe would steal a kiss from him, a kiss so quick that anyone passing by would probably miss it.  
Just little things so they reminded one another of how real it was, so they both could tell the other, “The wait was worth it.”

  


Joe was lying on his back and looking at his phone when Ben emerged from the bathroom, his skin still damp and clinging to the towel around his waist, and the cold air in the room sent a shockwave of goosebumps over his skin.  
  
“I had a weird dream,” Joe began, putting his phone down and resting one arm behind his head. “We were walking around downtown LA at sunset and then you took me to this strange, dark little restaurant. And you had arranged like, this pre-ordered dinner for us but it was all fried seafood.” He sat up slightly, resting against the headboard. “I distinctly remember there was a whole fried crab, just like, a crab dipped in batter and deep-fried, and I remember thinking it was disgusting but you were so excited.”  
  
Ben crinkled his nose. “Not sure about that, mate. That is weird, though.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Wait, is this because you actually planned a seafood dinner?”  
  
Joe chuckled. “No. Why, should I have?”  
  
“I don’t know, is LA known for seafood?”  
  
“Fish tacos.” Joe reached over and grabbed the hem of Ben’s towel. “Take this off.”  
  
“Morning wood?” Ben asked, smirking.  
  
“Of course. And you’re just the person who can satiate me,” Joe answered and tugged at the towel again. “Take it off.”  
  
“I can’t take another shower, Joe. There’s a drought.”  
  
Joe groaned. “Right again, Benny. How insensitive of me.” He traced his fingertips over Ben’s lower back. “But we can shower together.” He raised his eyebrows.  
  
“You’re really looking out for the environment,” Ben replied and patted Joe’s leg through the blankets. “Come on. Up and at ‘em.”  
  
Joe sighed but obeyed, stretching as he got up. As he made his way around the bed, he let his hand linger on Ben’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re actually making me hike today,” he said. “And you said you hated LA.”  
  
“I know, I know, yet I’m immersing myself in the ‘culture.’” Ben smiled and leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his hands. “I can’t wait to see you sweating.” He spread his legs just a bit, still concealed by the towel.  
  
Joe groaned quietly as he looked at Ben. “You’re being _such_ a tease today. I didn’t expect the California sun to affect you that much,” he said, gazing over Ben’s body again before throwing his hands in the air. “Fine, tease me. I know you’ll make it up to me later.”  
  
Ben smiled to himself as Joe went into the bathroom. He didn’t expect the California sun to affect him in any positive way either, so the upswing in his mood was welcome. It must have been from seeing Rami and Gwil and the childlike giddiness of being with Joe in the hotel room.  
  
It was so easy for him to think ahead and stress himself out with things that hadn’t even happened yet--Ben wasn’t sure what he would do in New York and he couldn’t be sure where his relationship with Joe was heading, but he did try very hard to succumb to Joe’s advice which was to just go with it. To just go with life and make the decisions you need to make and to handle the outcomes, good or bad, expected or unexpected. When Ben was with Joe, he felt like that was possible. Being with Joe made him forget so much about the passing of time or the mundane obligations of life. Perhaps it wasn’t the place, all in all--perhaps it was the bond Ben had with Joe that allowed him to move more freely in the world. 

  
  


“Hiking is so much work,” Joe exclaimed as he and Ben ascended another hill, both of them sweating through their clothes, although Joe probably did have Ben beat--sweat was dripping from Joe’s temples and upper lip and, in a turn of events, _his_ face was flushed for once.  
  
“ _You’re_ actually the one who proposed this idea,” Ben reminded him, leading the way. “I was just the one who picked out this specific hiking trail.”  
  
“How many more miles?”  
  
“I think about one and a half. Maybe two.”  
  
Joe groaned and paused, standing with his hands on his hips.  
  
“Come on, Joe, we’re so close. You’ll feel amazing once we’ve finished.”  
  
“Well, I sure hope that’ll be the case later.” Joe managed a wink through his sweat.  
  
Ben smirked. “If you finish _this_ without so much whining, I’m sure we can achieve that,” he said.  
  
It was actually a bit longer of a ways back than Bed had anticipated but he didn’t think Joe noticed. The most redeemable part of the hike anyway for Joe was when they reached the final peak of the mountain and they could look through all the greenery and barely see the blurry, microscopic version of downtown LA from which they had come from.  
  
Ben put his arm around Joe as they looked over the view. “We did it, mate.”  
  
“God, _finally_ ,” Joe replied, leaning against Ben. “I’m glad we have a dinner in the city waiting for us.”  
  
“So _no_ seafood, right?”  
  
“Whatever you want, babe, but _I’m_ not going to eat a fried crab.”  
  
Ben chuckled. “Okay, we have to take a selfie, right?”  
  
“Are we putting it on ‘the ‘gram?’”  
  
“I think we have to.”  
  
Joe smiled. “Okay, okay. How’s my hair?”  
  
“Only slightly matted with sweat.”  
  
“Good, that’s a good look.”  
  
Ben took out his phone and pulled Joe tighter. “I’m going to think of Rami in that leather skirt,” he said.  
  
“I’m going to think about _you_ in the schoolgirl outfit.”  
  
Ben wasn’t joking--thinking about Rami in the leather skirt and pink sleeveless blouse, plus being exhausted from the exertion and heat, sent him laughing, and Joe followed suit.  
  
“They’re good,” Ben said as he looked at the pictures, still recovering from both of their laughter.  
  
“Really?” Joe peered over Ben’s shoulder.  
  
“Your smile kills me every time,” Ben said.  
  
“I don’t know, I think we both have good smiles.”  
  
“I’ll take it,” Ben replied and replaced the phone in his pocket. “Come on. We’re almost homebound. Well, hotel-bound anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback welcome, I'd love to hear all of your thoughts on where you think this is going and where you want it to go. Also to keep going with my sick day, I'm going to watch Bohemian Rhapsody (again) tonight. Cheers <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter that was one of my favorites to write. I have not been vomiting-sick, thankfully, but there's nothing like being down and out for a few days to make you think, God, I wish I had someone to take care of me. So it's a good thing our boys have one another and I can live vicariously through them.

“What would you rate that meal on a scale of 1 to 10?” Joe asked Ben as they re-entered the hotel room for the last time, like walking through a portal to a palette of gold, teal, and blues interrupted by Ben’s clothes scattered across the floor and Joe’s empty water bottles lingering on the night table.  
  
“If I’m being honest,” Ben started, looked at Joe’s face, then back peddled. “No, I’m not gonna be honest.”  
  
“Well, God, you have to be now.”  
  
“Alright. I’m gonna say it was a 6.”  
  
“A _six_?”  
  
Ben threw his head back before stripping off his jacket and kicking off his shoes, tossing both toward his pile of clothes on the floor in front of the bed. “See, this is why I didn’t want to be honest,” he said.  
  
“You give that a 6 rating? Oh man, we could’ve just gone to Shake Shack.”  
  
Ben couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, it was good, but just considering the amount we paid--well, y’know. It could have been better,” he explained, not wanting to hurt Joe’s feelings--he had carefully chosen one of the more upscale restaurants that he thought they both really would have liked as a last LA hurrah. “I mean, the salad was sort of soggy, the meat was a little overdone--”  
  
“I think I’m gonna say I thoroughly enjoyed it,” Joe interrupted, hanging up his own jacket and discarding his shoes neatly by the door. “Just so I can have peace of mind.” He pushed Ben back onto the bed. “And now, as we agreed earlier, you’re gonna make up that teasing to me.”  
  
Ben smirked as Joe inched his hand underneath his shirt. “Am I?”  
  
“Oh yeah,” Joe replied, his face so close the tip of his nose was nearly touching Ben’s.  
  
Ben’s breath hitched and he smiled when Joe’s other hand went up to his neck and squeezed ever-so slightly.  
  
“Oh? It seems that meal might not have satisfied you as much you’re trying to force yourself to believe,” Ben remarked and spread his legs, letting Joe sink into him.  
  
“Well, not in the way that you and I both know I want to be satisfied, right?” Joe replied. Ben leaned forward in attempt to kiss him but Joe pulled back, his left hand still on Ben’s neck, his right lingering on his hip. “Ah, see _now_ who’s the one getting teased?”  
  
“That’s rude,” Ben said and grabbed Joe by his belt, pulling him back in, their thighs meeting. “So very rude.” He went in for another kiss but Joe denied him again, pushing him back flat onto the bed and climbing on top of him.  
  
“Payback, Benny, payback. You get to look all sexy in a towel and then force me to go hiking, and here’s where we are now,” Joe said and hoisted Ben’s shirt up, bunching it at the neck, and he began to kiss and bite his chest.  
  
Ben shuddered and grabbed Joe’s shoulders. “Not fair, Joe.”  
  
Coming up from sucking on Ben’s skin, he again hovered just above his mouth. “You don’t think it’s fair?” he mocked.  
  
“No,” Ben replied and purposefully pouted. Joe was driving him crazy--sure, he had teased a _little_ that morning but nothing compared to what Joe was doing to him then, and, as much as he loved Joe being so dominant, it was painfully obvious that he wasn’t going to give in anytime soon. Joe definitely intended to torture him.  
  
“There you go, with that mouth again,” Joe sighed and kissed Ben’s neck, sucking lightly on his Adam’s apple. “See, you know what you’re doing.”  
  
Ben felt like he was going to erupt. Physically overpowering Joe wouldn’t have been much of a struggle so he supposed the masochistic part of himself wanted to be teased and tortured by Joe--more than that, Ben felt incapacitated under his touch. Joe’s fingers always knew just which parts of his skin to trace, his lips always knew the sort of kisses he wanted, and his tongue always knew right where to go.  
  
“Please, Joe.” Ben almost visibly cringed at himself when he said the words--begging was still not something he was accustomed to. He couldn’t see Joe’s expression since he was still kissing Ben’s neck, but he could feel him smirk against his skin.  
  
“Please what?” Joe asked, his mouth right under Ben’s ear.  
  
“God, Joe, come on,” Ben huffed, ready to throw a temper tantrum soon enough if Joe didn’t start showing him some mercy.  
  
“Please _what_?”  
  
“Joe--fuck--please kiss me,” Ben begged and not two seconds later Joe’s mouth was on his, his hand back at Ben’s throat to cradle the tender, bruised skin, his tongue slipping into Ben’s mouth and Ben sucking on it eagerly. He wrapped his arms around Joe’s neck and pulled him in more, quietly moaning into his mouth.  
  
Ben wanted to keep doing that until the sun went up but, after a couple minutes, Joe eased off.  
  
“Please,” Ben said again, but Joe’s facial expression changed from entranced to what Ben perceived as frightened, and he actually turned his chin up to look if there was some demon clinging to the headboard. “What?” he asked upon seeing nothing, only to look back at Joe’s pallid face.  
  
“Fuck,” Joe mumbled then practically leaped off Ben, raced into the bathroom and slammed the door just as Ben could her the indistinguishable sounds of vomiting.  
  
“Oh no,” Ben uttered, looking at the door.  
  
After a minute more of vomiting Joe yelled, “God, I just wanted to _fuck_.”  
  
Ben stifled his laughter. “I’m sorry, Joe,” he called out. “If it’s any consolation: me too.”  
  
“You better hope you don’t have it, too,” Joe replied unsteadily. “There’s only one toilet.” More vomiting.  
  
“No, no, this must have been that dish with the egg you had,” Ben said. “I mean, they even looked raw.”  
  
“That was the point, but--oh, god, this sucks--those chefs are supposed to take extra precautions.”  
  
“How can you be at all cautious with raw eggs other than deciding to cook them?”  
  
There was some dry-heaving and coughing then Joe said, “You _almost_ ordered the steak tartare.”  
  
“ _Almost_.” Ben stood up and went to the door. “You alright? You get it all out?”  
  
Joe exhaled loudly. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. How long does food poisoning last?”  
  
“I don’t know for sure. A few hours?”  
  
“Fuck. Me.”  
  
“Not tonight, mate.”  
  
“Oh, ha-ha, Ben.”  
  
“Can I come in?”  
  
“No, for the love of God, you can’t see me like this.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure the visual I’m imagining is far worse than what you actually look like.” Ben tapped on the door. “Come on.”  
  
“Ugh, fine,” Joe groaned.  
  
Ben cracked open the door to first get a brief overview and when he swung it fully open, there was Joe on the tile floor, his left arm clinging to the toilet seat, his legs sprawled out and his torso slightly twisted. A thin layer of sweat laid across his skin and he was paler than Ben had ever seen.  
  
“God, I’m so sorry,” Ben declared. “This is awful.”  
  
“I told you. Oh man, this really sucks.”  
  
Ben grabbed one of the washcloths hanging from the towel rod and dampened it with cold water. He crouched down and dabbed it along Joe’s forehead. “It’ll be alright. It seems like you got the worst of it out,” he said softly.  
  
“And I always wanted _you_ to need _me_ ,” Joe replied.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I like--I like taking care of you.”  
  
Ben smiled. “Really? You enjoyed taking care of me when I was a poor, sad mess?”  
  
Joe tried to wave that away. “I didn’t like that you were--sad.” He exhaled. “But I liked taking care of you. I liked helping you. It was nice to feel needed.”  
  
Ben sat down on the tile. “I always need you. Now you need me.”  
  
“Ugh, you’re right. This would be even worse alone.” Joe slouched against the wall, removing his arm from the toilet. “Here I am, a--a limp, vomiting mess and _you_ have to take care of me.”  
  
Ben chuckled and stood up to grab one of the plastic cups by the sink and filled it with water. He sat back down and handed it to Joe. “Would you prefer someone else to be taking care of you?” he asked.  
  
“No,” Joe admitted. “You or my mom, that’s it.”  
  
“I feel like your mother would seriously consider catching a flight out here just to tend to you,” Ben said.  
  
Joe managed a weak laugh. “She would.” He reached out and rested his hand on Ben’s knee. “Thanks, Benny.” He took a few sips of the water then suddenly lunged for the toilet again and threw up again, spitting and coughing into the bowl.  
  
“Oh no,” Ben said again, not sure if touching Joe in any capacity would be comforting or more irritating, so he sat there with the still-damp washcloth in his hand and waited for the episode to end, and feeling very grateful that he didn’t have a severe aversion to watching people vomit.  
  
When Joe leaned back again, spittle clinging to his lips and chin, Ben lightly stroked his hair. “You okay?” he asked.  
  
“God, who knows at this point--those fucking eggs,” Joe grumbled and took another sip of the water.  
  
Ben dabbed his forehead again. “Should we leave a bad Yelp review?”  
  
Joe chuckled weakly. “Maybe.” He sighed and coughed. “You should go to bed. I’m not sure how long I’ll be in here.”  
  
“I can stay.”  
  
“No, come on.”  
  
“Joe--”  
  
“Alright, how about I stay down here for just a little while longer,” Joe proposed. “And if I start to feel better, I’ll get in bed, too.”  
  
Ben hesitated. He felt like leaving Joe alone on the floor was a shitty, very bad-boyfriend, thing to do, but he also didn’t want to make Joe more uncomfortable than he was.  
  
“Okay,” Ben agreed. “But first I’m going to open that mini-bar and get you a ginger ale.”  
  
Joe reached for Ben’s leg as he got up. “No, that’ll cost like 12 dollars,” he pleaded.  
  
“I’m not going to go searching all over for--”  
  
“There’s a gas station, remember? It’s just down the road.”  
  
Ben thought for a moment then remembered the Mobil a few blocks away from the hotel. “Alright. I’ll go there,” he said. “Want anything else?”  
  
“Pepto Bismol.”  
  
“Okay then. I’ll be back,” Ben assured Joe and left the washcloth on the kitchen sink, running his fingers through Joe’s hair before leaving.

  


The walk to the Mobil was hot and slightly muggier than Ben had anticipated and he was glad he had forgone the jacket back at the hotel. It must have been the late spring weather that made the air a little more damp and heavy than he was used to from his previous LA visits. The lights of the strip glowed in hues of stark green, red and gold and Ben stopped along the sidewalk to light a cigarette, reminding himself that he would have to buy another pack anyway.  
  
As he walked, the cigarette smoking in between his lips, he texted Rami and Gwil in a group chat:  
  
_Joe is sick_  
  
Rami replied nearly instantly: _With what?_  
  
Ben took a drag and typed back: _Food poisoning_  
  
Rami: _Oh no, poor Joe_  
  
Gwil chimed in: _get him some ginger!_  
  
Ben replied: _On it #prayforjoe_  
  
And one last reply from Rami: _send pics_  
  
Ben chuckled as he put the phone away and took a final drag before stamping out the cigarette in the butt depot outside the gas station. The slightly jarring robotic bell sound went off as he opened the glass door and stepped in, himself and one other man at the cash register the only patrons inside.  
  
He headed for the wall of refrigerated drinks and grabbed a ginger ale, plus a lemon-lime Gatorade, then went for the insanely overpriced little shelf that housed cold and flu medicines. The bottle of Pepto Bismol was nearly 10 dollars which even Ben knew was outrageously up-charged in comparison to buying it at a grocery store, but it was for Joe, and Ben would pay any amount for Joe.  
  
“Can I also get a pack of Marb Golds?” Ben asked the cashier as he placed the bottles on the counter.  
  
“I just need to see ID,” the cashier replied, which surprised Ben a bit--in London he never got ID’d and even in New York it was rare. LA wasn’t messing around.  
  
“Rough night?” the cashier remarked after he grabbed the cigarettes and scanned in the items, placing them in a plastic bag.  
  
“Well, my uh--my friend is sick,” Ben replied. “Food poisoning.”  
  
The cashier actually displayed some sympathy towards that. “That sucks, man. Rough.” He glanced at the register. “It’s gonna be $27.55.”  
  
_Good God_ , Ben thought. Obviously the cigarettes racked up the cost but nearly 30 dollars covered his entree from earlier. He begrudgingly took out his wallet and counted out the bills.  
  
“He made the mistake of ordering something with raw eggs,” Ben went on. "Since I guess that's what fancy people eat."  
  
The cashier chuckled. “So it’s no one’s fault but his own, really.”  
  
“No, not really. But it’s still my duty to take care of him,” Ben replied with a slight smile.  
  
“That’s a true friend.” The cashier handed him back a few coins worth of change. “I hope his night gets better. Have a good one, man.”  
  
“You too, mate. Thanks.”  
  
As he left the Mobil Ben had to reflect upon how much more courteous, in general anyway, people in LA were than in New York. Not that he minded the curtness, sometimes downright bristly attitudes, of New Yorkers--in fact, sometimes they reminded him of people back in London--but seeing people actually smile and be seemingly kind to him was nice.  
  
Ben had one last cigarette outside the hotel, careful not to infiltrate past the vaguely marked, allotted smoking areas which no one else was inhabiting with him. That was another difference between LA and New York--the latter was still choked with smokers and Ben liked it that way. People in LA still smoked, sure, but he had seen far more juuls than actual cigarettes.  
  
“Joe?” Ben called out as he got back in the room, the plastic bag dangling from his wrist as he used his free hand to swipe the room key.  
  
“Still here,” Joe called back weakly.  
  
Ben approached the bathroom and saw Joe still sitting on the floor, back against the wall, the half-empty cup of water next to him.  
  
“Well, you look a little better,” Ben noted. “How much more have you gotten out?”  
  
“Some. Not a lot. Seems to be more bile now.”  
  
Ben grimaced slightly. “Right. Well, that’s good. Think you can drink something?”  
  
“Maybe. Did you get the ginger ale?”  
  
“I did, plus Pepto Bismol. And Gatorade.”  
  
“What flavor?”  
  
“Green.”  
  
Joe smiled. “Perfect.”  
  
“The blue is better, Joe, but I’m glad I got it right for you.” Ben took all the bottles out of the bag and and lined them up on the sink. He peeled the plastic protector off the Pepto Bismol and cracked it open, pouring some into the little plastic cup it came with. “Here,” he said, handing it to Joe. “This first, then the Gatorade.”  
  
“God, I hate this stuff,” Joe groaned and brought it to his lips. “And why is it such a diabolical shade of pink?”  
  
“It is disgusting looking. But it’ll help,” Ben said. After Joe managed to get it down Ben handed him the Gatorade. “Small sips, okay?”  
  
Joe nodded. “Thanks, Benny.” He took a sip and exhaled. “I think--if this kicks in--I’ll be able to shower and go to bed.”  
  
Ben lightly pressed the back of his hand against Joe’s forehead. “You feel less clammy,” he said. “I just think you being on this floor is going to kill your body.”  
  
“Three minutes. I’ll get up and shower after three minutes.”  
  
“Okay,” Ben replied and started to walk out. “I’ll be waiting for you.”  
  
“Waiting for my sick, pathetic body,” Joe replied. “What a nice end to this trip. What time is our flight?”  
  
“8:15.”  
  
“Christ.”  
  
Ben chuckled and stripped out of his clothes, trading in the jeans for sweats and sitting cross-legged on the bed, sending another text to the group:  
  
_Joe’s still alive_  
  
Rami replied: _you guys should have come back to my place for dinner, this wouldn’t have happened_  
  
Ben: _I’m sure Joe will be delighted to hear that could have spared him. Next time, I promise_  
  
Rami: _you two just wanted to be alone, I see how it is_  
  
Ben: _what happens in LA stays in LA_  
  
Joe shut the door of the bathroom then and Ben called out, “You alright?”  
  
“I’m taking a shower,” Joe called back. “I think I’m recovering.”  
  
Ben briefly glossed over his piles of clothes on the floor and decided he better pack them then instead of wait until the morning, when he was sure to be far too groggy and irritated to do a decent job of it. So while the water from the bathroom ran he sloppily folded all the clothes, separating the dirty clothes by putting as many as possible in the plastic bag from the gas station, folding and bunching them up as tightly as he could, only leaving the pair of jeans he had worn earlier that evening plus a clean t-shirt out so he had something to wear on the plane.  
  
Joe came out of the bathroom wrapped in one of the complimentary white plush robes and drinking the Gatorade. “I feel better,” he said in between gulps. “So much better.”  
  
“And it’s only 1am,” Ben said. “Plenty of time to sleep.”  
  
“ _Right_. You know I need my seven hours, Ben.”  
  
Ben sat on the bed and patted the space next to him, to which Joe followed, nestling alongside him. Ben stroked Joe’s hair as he laid his head against Ben’s shoulder.  
  
“Thanks, Benny,” Joe said. “You’ve taken such good care of me.” He smiled up at him.  
  
“It’s a partnership, right?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Ben exhaled contentedly, still gently stroking Joe’s hair. Part of him was going to miss LA--it wasn’t as though he wanted to live there, but it ended up being an even better trip than he had thought, and, in a strange way, even the food poisoning courtesy of one of the city’s finest eateries had made the bond between him and Joe even stronger. In that right, he did feel a little better about going back to New York--they _both_ needed each other. But the same anxieties still remained, and the short-lived vacation had only been an escape from the monotony and struggle of everyday life for so long. Ben still didn’t know what his next move would be.  
  
Joe’s poignant question snapped Ben out of his daze. “Ready to go back to New York?” he asked.  
  
Ben sighed. “Yeah, I think so. Although I did like being in LA with you,” he admitted.  
  
Joe smiled at him. “I liked it too. And I liked seeing Rami and Gwil. We’ll have to get them out to New York more often.”  
  
“Agreed,” Ben replied, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers and gazing out the window at the black sky and the purple and gold lights of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers, my friends, for another chapter! I hope you liked it. I'm going back to work tomorrow and feel very emotionally unprepared but at least I'm able to be verbal again. And the next chapter is already in the works<3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did we all see that fresh #Hardzello content on instagram? It really made my day. I love those guys.  
> I hope you can forgive me for this taking a little longer--this one was more challenging than other chapters<3

Pounding on the drums gave Ben a rise of energy within himself that he hadn’t felt, well, since he had been on set of BoRhap. The momentum, the fast movement, his body being so in sync and the freedom of having no thoughts, just going with the flow and creating sound, all of it felt like such a release of emotion and tension, so much so that he actually forgot about his surroundings.  
  
He was sweating even after finishing the second song, the sound still reverberating in his ears, and he put down the drumsticks and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his wristband, a Roger Taylor trademark he couldn’t let go of.  
  
It had been a week and a half since Ben and Joe had returned from LA and Ben had returned in a mood that had been more positive than he’d expected, which was good for the both of them. Joe had fretted about being sick on the plane ride back and had clung to a plastic bag the entire time, gripping Ben’s arm at the slightest jostling of the plane, but he had managed to return without vomiting, so it had been a win-win.  
  
The cold shoulder of New York finally came as no surprise to Ben and he felt more at home with the abrasive strangers ignoring him as he walked down the streets, the smoke curling around him, no one bothering him or smiling. Sure, it got tired after a while, but he was adjusting to it more and more and as long as he didn’t morph into a rude, distant person, he was alright with it. Besides, Joe wasn’t that way at all and he had lived in Brooklyn for years.  
  
Ben had even made the loft more of his home--he had hung photographs, some his own, some of friends and photographers he admired, some of the band in frames around the space. He even bought a black and grey throw blanket for the couch despite Joe insisting that it didn’t match the rest of the living area, and he had gotten curtains so he wasn’t abruptly awoken by the sun every morning.  
  
His phone vibrated on the floor next to him and he bent down to retrieve it, sliding the screen with his thumb.  
  
“Hey,” he said.  
  
“You ready for tonight?” came Joe’s voice.  
  
“I mean, I guess so,” Ben replied. In truth, he didn’t feel ready at all--he had only met Joe’s mom once before and they weren’t a couple when that had happened.  
  
Ben felt a new sense of intense pressure to impress her and to show that he was an upstanding boyfriend, yet he was still nervous about revealing that to her in the first place. Joe was close to his mom and Ben knew he had revealed a lot of his personal life to her, whereas Ben had never been very close to his parents and, unbeknownst to Joe, hadn’t even told them that they were dating.  
  
“You’re ready,” Joe assured him. “I mean, she’s over the moon about the whole thing and she barely knows you, so that’s good.”  
  
Ben chuckled. “Your mother loves everyone.”  
  
“Well, my mom is a very kind lady. What are you wearing, by the way?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Ben got up and went over to the free-standing rack of clothes and poked through his suit jackets and dress shirts. “Something black?”  
  
“Black is good. Although I really like you in white.”  
  
“What are _you_ wearing?”  
  
“Right now--well, jeans, but underneath I have those really tight purple boxers that you--”  
  
Ben laughed. “No, don’t do this to me now. What are you wearing tonight?”  
  
“A grey button-down, navy blazer, navy pants. Is that boring?”  
  
“Any tie?”  
  
“Hmm, no tie, I don’t think. It’s not like we’re going to the Plaza.”  
  
“And no raw eggs or meat this time, right?”  
  
Joe groaned. “Don’t even say it. I’m still recovering.”  
  
Ben snickered as he held up a white dress shirt. “What shoes should I wear?”  
  
“What about those silver-y high-tops?”  
  
“Is that too casual?”  
  
“No, it’ll be snazzy.”  
  
“Think it’ll be too matchy between the two of us?”  
  
“Well, we have to show my mom we’re committed, right?”  
  
“Yeah, for sure.” Ben smiled. “No joking around.”  
  
“So I’ll meet you at your place a little before 6, okay?”  
  
“Alright. I’ll see you then.”  
  
As soon as Joe was off the phone, all of the nerves in Ben’s body coiled up again. He had never been too keen on meeting the parents--who was, really? But with Joe it _really_ mattered, more so than it had in a very long time. 

  
  


“Damn, Ben, you look good,” Joe said as Ben emerged from his building. Joe reached out and felt the fabric of Ben’s blazer. “Is this new?”  
  
“Actually no, but I haven’t had an occasion to wear it recently,” Ben replied. “I think officially meeting your mum is the perfect time though, right?”  
  
“You look so _fresh_.” Joe smiled. “Do a spin for me.”  
  
“Come on, get out of here.”  
  
“No, come on, spin!”  
  
Ben sighed but he spun slowly, his arms outstretched, so Joe could get the full picture.  
  
“Wow,” Joe said and clicked his tongue. “So fine.”  
  
“You too,” Ben replied and moved into Joe, kissing him gently. “Although we look very monochromatic together, don’t you think?”  
  
“No, not monochromatic--complementary,” Joe corrected.  
  
Ben looked down at his all-white outfit and back at Joe’s navy ensemble. “No, Joe--we look like _sailors_ ,” he declared.  
  
“Is there something wrong with sailors?” Joe asked coyly.  
  
“No, not at all. Sailors are fine. I’m so glad we look like sailors.”  
  
“Well, Ben,” Joe said, putting his arm around him. “You’re the captain of _my_ ship.”  
  
“I love you too,” Ben replied as he put a cigarette between his lips. “Does your mum hate smoking?” he asked after lighting it.  
  
“As much as any other mom,” Joe replied.  
  
“I would try and refrain but I’m really nervous, Joe,” Ben admitted.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
Joe was _seriously_ asking him that? Ben took a drag. “Yeah, I mean, this is your mum, Joe,” he reiterated. “I’m nervous.”  
  
“You met her before, really--”  
  
“Not officially. This is like, total meet-the-parents stuff.”  
  
Joe took Ben’s hand and squeezed it gently. “She’ll love you, I swear.”  
  
“How much does she know about me?”  
  
“Well, considering I talk about you literally all the time, I would say she knows a lot.”  
  
Ben smiled at that and squeezed Joe’s hand back. “You do?”  
  
“Yes, Ben. Sometimes I’m embarrassed of myself when I realize how much I talk about you.” Joe smiled back at him. “Come on. You’ve got this.”

  


He tried to remind himself of Joe’s encouraging words as the two of them walked into the restaurant but Ben was sweating from his nerves again. He knew it was irrational--Joe was right, his mom would love him. He was able to tell himself that not out of vanity or cockiness but the glowing review Joe must have given him, plus Ben being so obviously in love with Joe would really seal the deal.  
  
“Mom’s not here yet,” Joe said as he looked at his phone. “But should be soon.”  
  
Ben sighed. “How do I look?”  
  
Joe smiled and took a tissue from the pack in his pants pocket. “Amazing, although a little damp,” he replied and dabbed Ben’s forehead.  
  
“Did you bring those for this exact purpose?”  
  
Joe chuckled. “Yup.” He reached for Ben’s hand. “It’s alright, Benny. Chill.”

  


Much to his surprise, Ben was finding it easier to “chill” once he, Joe and Virginia were actually settled in their booth, shining gold arches hanging over them and trailing across the ceiling of the space. Ben liked it--it was a little dim, even for his under-30 eyes, but the lighting was warm and inviting, offsetting the colder industrial backdrop, and the smell of grilled meats and garlic made his mouth water.  
  
“I feel very underdressed,” Virginia said, glancing over Ben and Joe again, both of them sitting across from her. “Joe told me this restaurant was upscale but I didn’t expect you guys to go all out.”  
  
Joe smiled. “I think we both wanted to impress you. Besides, you look great. Very appropriate.”  
  
Ben was still worried that he was sweating through his white shirt and blazer. He reached for his glass of water and glanced at the menu again--he and Joe went to upscale places enough, but the prices of meals never ceased to astound him. He almost wished he had pushed for something more casual, mostly to make himself feel more comfortable, but he knew Joe had thought of this as a very special occasion.  
  
Virginia herself was warm and inviting but Ben still felt the pressure of a teenage boy taking his girlfriend to prom--the dinner wasn’t just about getting to know one another, it was to show Virginia he was serious and that he and Joe were truly compatible. He knew how close Joe and his mom were, so any potential slandering of him left Ben terrified of Joe leaving him.  
  
“I just wanted to tell you again,” Virginia said to Ben, reaching her hand across the table to gently touch his arm. “How much I loved the movie. You all did such an amazing job.”  
  
“Thank you,” Ben replied, smiling shyly with genuine pride. It never hurt to be complimented. “Joe was amazing, really.”  
  
Joe nudged his side. “We both were, let’s be real. And all four of us,” he said. “Rami really took on the role of Freddie, you know?”  
  
“I remember hearing about his death,” Virginia remarked. “Not that I ever listened to a lot of Queen, but you always heard them on the radio. And you listened to them quite a bit, actually,” she said to Joe.  
  
“Every morning on the way to set,” Joe replied, adjusting the napkin in his lap but also reaching over to squeeze Ben’s thigh. “‘Somebody to Love.’”  
  
Ben smiled, looking down at his half-empty plate.  
  
“Ben, any other acting projects on the horizon now?” Virginia asked before taking a sip from the Old Fashioned she had ordered.  
  
“Uh, not sure yet, honestly,” Ben answered. “I’ve thought about going back into theater. It might be fun and I’ve never done it in New York, of course. But I’ve also picked up the drumming again.”  
  
Virginia beamed at that behind her glass. “Really? That’s great. Still playing Queen?”  
  
Ben chuckled. “You gotta play Queen, yeah. But I’ve also been trying to learn some new songs,” he told her. “I would love to learn some Zeppelin.”  
  
“Please learn ‘Kashmir,’” Joe chimed in.  
  
“I’ll do my best, Joe. Just for you.”  
  
“Joe also told me you sort of struggled with the move,” Virginia went on. “How do you feel about living in Brooklyn now?”  
  
“I feel better about it,” Ben said and glanced at Joe. “Joe’s really been the best support through it all.”  
  
“He is a sweetheart,” Virginia said, smiling at her son.  
  
“Raised by the best,” Joe replied.  
  
“Has it been hard on your family?” Virginia asked Ben. “You moving away?”  
  
Ben swallowed a sip of his water. “I’m not super close with my parents, honestly, but it’s been a little hard for all of us,” he said. “When you’re so used to living so close to one another your whole life, that adjustment is huge.”  
  
“Any plans to visit them soon?”  
  
Ben glanced at Joe through his peripheral--he wanted to be honest and say that he was _not_ going to make plans to see them soon and no, he was _not_ going to tell them that he was dating Joe for as long as he could avoid it, but that didn’t seem like the best move for a boyfriend, so he said, “Maybe. Still working on the details.”  
  
The rest of the dinner was fine--they all split a banana tarte tatin and Joe paid the full bill, despite his mother insisting otherwise, and Joe took Virginia’s arm in his as the three of them left the restaurant, the sun in the middle of its descension behind the glimmering buildings. The Manhattan air full of smoke, trash and compost was a shock to Ben’s senses after the titillating experience inside the restaurant and, after the exhaustion he felt from exerting so much energy, all he wanted was a cigarette to add to the symphony.  
  
“It was so nice to officially meet you, Ben,” Virginia said to him as she hugged him. “It’s really like things are _official_ now.”  
  
“Yeah, it does feel like that,” Ben replied and smiled. Should he say that he loved her son? Should he have been more overt with his feelings about Joe? He had no idea. He had never had to grapple with this situation with such intensity. “It was really nice to officially meet you, too. I’m really glad we got the chance.”  
  
Virginia’s hands lingered on Ben’s forearms. “We’ll all have to get together again sometime soon,” she added and then went to hug Joe. “And I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
  
“Tomorrow morning, yeah,” Joe said.  
  
“I still could have gotten the bill,” Virginia said to Joe in a hushed tone. “I wanted to treat you two.”  
  
“No, no, mom, none of that,” Joe replied. “We’re happy to treat you. You’re in town, this was for you.”  
  
“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slip this time,” Virginia said. She gave Ben and Joe a final smile. “You two have a good night. Ben, nice to meet you again--Joe, I’ll see you in the morning.”  
  
“You’ll be alright walking back?” Joe asked her.  
  
“Yes, Joe, I’ll be alright,” Virginia said, as if she were the child and not him. “I haven’t fully forgotten how to navigate the city.”  
  
“Alright, well, text me when you get back to your hotel.”  
  
When Ben and Joe were beginning their walk back, Joe turned to him excitedly and said, “I think she loves you, Benny.”  
  
“Are you sure? It was hard for me to tell,” Ben replied dubiously and retrieved his cigarettes from his pocket as they walked.  
  
“I think she does,” Joe assured him. “I’m pretty positive. I mean, what’s not to love anyway?”  
  
Ben smirked as he took a drag. “The smoking. I’m a bad influence.”  
  
“Oh please, Mom knows I’m old enough to know better,” Joe replied and grabbed Ben’s wrist, leaning in to kiss him. “How do you feel?”  
  
“Better. It’s a relief to finally make that official first impression, I guess,” Ben answered, but internally, he was still fretting. Joe knew his mom--Ben didn’t--but he couldn’t stand the ambiguity. As far as he knew, Virginia was sweet to everyone, so how was he to know how she really felt about him?  
  
“You still seem unsure,” Joe observed, following Ben as he began to walk again.  
  
Ben hesitated, inhaling the smoke before answering: “I mean--your mom is so nice. I’m just worried that she’s going to not approve of me and I’ll be blindsided when you--” he stopped and took another drag, looking down at the sidewalk.  
  
“When I what?” Joe pressed. “When I break up with you? Because my mom didn’t like you?”  
  
“God, Joe, I don’t know, I’m just nervous.”  
  
“I know, Benny. But you really don’t have to be,” Joe said. “I know my mom likes you, and even if she doesn’t like _something_ about you, something insignificant to me, it won’t really matter. I hope you feel like we know each other well enough for you to know what I do and don’t like about you.”  
  
Ben smirked to himself. “Yeah, I think I know.”  
  
“I promise, you have nothing to worry about,” Joe assured Ben again and took his hand as they walked. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you too,” Ben said, relieved to feel Joe’s skin on his again and feeling like he was finally able to take in the warm, hazy air through the smoke of his cigarette. “And I’m paying you back for my half of that bill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost all dialogue, no smut, blah blah. I swear the next one will be more enticing.   
> #hardzelloforever


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends--I hope you enjoy another installment. I've been working overtime lately so I feel like Ben and Joe have been a little neglected <3 but I'm always thinking about the photos Joe posted on instagram...#hardzelloforever

Ben felt like he was in high school drama club all over again as he sat slumped in a folding chair in the back of the black box theater, listening to everyone else chatter around him while they waited for the instructor. He felt a little awkward to say the least--he was worried about the other people there knowing who he was and asking him questions about being an actor in box-office movies, then he scolded himself for being so egotistical. Still, the possibility remained and, as much as he wanted to be in that theater, he also wanted to hide away in the dark.  
  
It was an official meet-up for the actors of a small-scale production that was being put on later in the summer--a play written by a playwright from New Orleans and something that Ben had read only after seeing casting calls for it. He wasn’t sure which part he had been cast as yet--he had auditioned after running through the whole thing over and over with Joe, both of them reading as all the parts, and had only received the invitation to the general meeting but no details as to who was doing what.  
  
After going around and doing the whole high school spiel of sharing their names and some asinine tidbit about themselves, everyone in the black box theater was declared their roles: there were indeed five cast members--true to the play--there were two people on set design, one in makeup, one in wardrobe, plus an assistant and the director. Ben was cast as the character of Kenny while another actor, AJ, was cast as the character of Ben, funnily enough. Ben was happy with the role--the character of Kenny was fresh out of rehab along with his wife Sharon and he was also an American, giving Ben a fun opportunity. He was generally just exhilarated to be back in the theater--it had a different energy and production than movies or TV. Plus, with this play, there wouldn’t be any nudity, so both he and Joe were relieved in that way.  
  
“Sorry I stole your name,” AJ remarked to Ben, sidling up to him and sitting down in the folding chair next to him as they all looked over the official print-outs of the manuscript.  
  
“It’s alright, mate,” Ben replied, smiling at the lame but welcome joke. He had been waiting for someone to break the tension he had created--ostracizing himself out of nervousness always dug his hole deeper. “Just expect me to constantly be turning my head whenever anyone else says it.”  
  
AJ laughed. “Seriously. And you said you’ve done theater before?”  
  
“Yeah, I was actually in a production of _The Judas Kiss_ a number of years ago,” Ben told him, hoping AJ would either know what that play was and move past it or, if he didn’t know, not ask about the entire plot.  
  
“Really?” AJ replied. “Is that the one about Oscar Wilde? I think I had to read parts of it for a college course.”  
  
“Yeah, that one. It was fun,” Ben told him. “I sort of missed doing theater, so here I am.”  
  
AJ ran his hand through his hair. He looked young, probably around Ben’s age, although they were quite opposite in appearance, with AJ’s rich, dark hair and eyes to match and looking far more put together than Ben in what could be considered an actual outfit. “I studied theater. Well, partially. It was my minor,” he explained. “Never got to do anything really remarkable with it. I went out on a limb for this.”  
  
“Me too. I saw a flyer about it when I was out one day and just went for it,” Ben replied. “I like the play though. It’s like, what’s really going on behind all the monotony?”  
  
“Yeah, and what’s really going on inside the character’s heads?” AJ agreed. “It doesn’t sound like there’s been a ton of buzz with this, so it’ll be interesting to see how this director does it.”  
  
“Is it just me or is the director kind of terrifying?” Ben asked, glancing over at her. The director’s name was Martha and she was nice enough, but had such an intense energy and direct way of speaking that Ben felt himself jolt a little whenever she started a sentence.  
  
AJ followed Ben’s eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, kind of. She’s just so--so vocal.”  
  
Ben had to take a moment to remind himself that he was _making a friend_ , something he hadn’t yet fully achieved in New York, and then he was scolding himself for not doing some theater sooner. It was a sure-fire way to meet new people and make friends and connections--he liked AJ. He liked the two women playing the other roles too, and even the other male actor who had a more minor role, at least from first impressions. Then Ben was imagining all the potential dinners they could have together, drinks after rehearsals, cast parties…  
  
He was getting a little ahead of himself. But still, it was nice to think about, and nice to talk to someone new.  
  
But AJ took the wheel and asked Ben, “What are you doing now? You wanna get a drink?”  
  
Ben was astounded--he was _really_ doing it--he was truly making friends. Before the anxiety could prevent him from declining he said, “Yeah, sure. Do you know of any good pubs near here?”  
  
AJ smiled. “Wait, are pubs and bars actually different?” he asked.  
  
“Well, of course. I may be a Brit, but you Americans should know there’s a difference,” Ben replied. “I think I’ve only been to true bars in New York. No really good pubs.”  
  
“God, now I’m gonna have to find one,” AJ muttered, taking out his phone. “I don’t even know if _I’ve_ been to a pub now.”  
  
“So we have to go to one for sure,” Ben said.  
  
After a minute of scrolling through his phone, AJ said, “There’s one literally five blocks away and it’s an English pub. Like, authentic.” He peered closer at the screen. “It does look a little...seedy though.”  
  
Ben took a look after AJ showed him the photos: it did look a little seedy, a little rough, with a faded sign and worn brick exterior, sitting on a dumpy looking corner, but Ben was excited at the thought of a good pint of beer and some possibly “authentic” English food.  
  
“I’m game,” Ben said. “Besides, I’m a real Brit. No one is gonna mess with us in there.”  
  
AJ grinned. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  


_I got cast as Kenny. Also, I made a friend_ Ben texted to Joe as he and AJ walked to the pub.  
  
_Benny!! That’s amazing! We have to celebrate later_ came Joe’s reply.  
  
_I’m going to a supposedly real English pub now but yes, we’ll have to celebrate later too_  
  
_Oh god, be careful with those pints lol. And have fun!_  
  
_I’ll do my best <3_

  


While the inside of the pub was far nicer than the outside looked, Ben and AJ sat outside on the back patio area with their respective pints of beer and sharing a plate of curry chips, the warm evening sun spreading out across their faces. It was incredible to be out at a bar--pub--with someone new. He loved Joe, obviously, but he couldn’t rely on Joe for every emotional and social need, and Joe’s friends had still been just that--Ben hadn’t been able to latch onto any of them very much. Ben needed his own friends and he couldn’t have been more grateful that AJ had taken the reigns--trying to make the first moves all the time got tiring, especially when Ben didn't have the advantaged of making his way into a circle of smokers.  
  
“Do you do Irish Car Bombs?” AJ asked and took a sip of his beer, a thin line of foam lingering on his upper lip.  
  
Ben laughed. “I did one once. It was disgusting. Also, do people not realize how offended Irish people will get over that name?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because of the actual car bombings during the Northern Ireland Conflict.”  
  
AJ looked perplexed. “What? I didn’t even know there was like, a historical tie to the drink,” he said. “I’m an idiot.”  
  
“No more an idiot than any other American,” Ben replied and raised his eyebrows, but when AJ didn’t seem to realize it was a joke, he added, “I’m kidding. Who would expect anyone outside of the UK to know that?”  
  
“Yeah, they definitely didn’t teach us that in history class,” AJ said. He speared one of the sauce-coated fries on his fork. “How does this compare to the chips and curry you’re probably used to?”  
  
Ben tried another one to remind himself. “It’s actually really good,” he said after swallowing. “It definitely reminds me of being home.”  
  
“Why’d you move to New York anyway?”  
  
Ben hesitated as he took a drink. New York was super progressive--the pride parade coming up was going to be the city's biggest event of the summer alone--and he never felt terribly uncomfortable being with Joe in public or merely alluding to being in a romantic relationship with another man, but he always questioned himself when it came to being so overt about it.  
  
But he took a chance with AJ--he seemed progressive enough too.  
  
“Well, I guess I sort of moved out here to be with my boyfriend,” Ben declared, feeling like everyone around, even people on the street, could hear and were looking at him suddenly. He studied AJ’s face for any sign of contempt, but he found no notable reaction, and he wasn’t sure if that comforted him at all.  
  
“Wow, that’s a big move. How long have you guys been together for?” AJ asked.  
  
Ben had to think. “Uh--not quite four months,” he said. “But we worked together and we’ve been friends for quite a while.”  
  
“Is he an actor too?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Anything I might’ve seen him in?”  
  
“He was in this show called _The Pacific_ ,” Ben said and hesitated again before internally cursing himself and saying, “Also _Bohemian Rhapsody_.”  
  
AJ raised an eyebrow. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s actually how we met.”  
  
AJ studied Ben’s face before exclaiming, “Oh! Ben? You played the drummer, right? I can see it now. Oh my god.”  
  
Ben felt himself blush. “Yeah, Roger Taylor.”  
  
“This is crazy,” AJ said. “Who’d your boyfriend play?”  
  
“John Deacon,” Ben answered, clearing his throat. “The bassist.”  
  
AJ shook his head in disbelief. “This is too much. That was such a huge movie. You’re a _real_ actor, dude” he said.  
  
“Theater is real acting, too,” Ben reminded AJ.  
  
“Okay, sure, but you were in like, a massive blockbuster movie,” AJ replied. “I’ve barely even done theater acting, really, so there’s that. What was it like acting in that movie?"  
  
“And now you have a lead role. And it was challenging,” Ben said. "It was nerve-wracking to have to play a real-life, living person, but we all had the best support and had so much fun during it all. He lifted up his glass of nearly-empty beer and encouraging AJ to do the same. "Cheers to our success, right?"  
  
AJ clinked his glass against Ben’s. “Wanna get another one?”  
  
Ben swallowed the last mouthful of foam. “Definitely.”

  


Ben was a little more tipsy than he had thought he would be by the time he got to Joe’s apartment, leaning against the inside of the elevator on the ride up and staring into the black bulb of the camera in the corner, studying his own reflection. His face was a little shiny from the warm weather and the walk to the apartment and he wondered how flushed he actually was. He felt like he was bursting with excitement--over the role in the play, over his new friend, over finally feeling like he was starting to belong in his new city.  
  
“Benny, you look a little trashed,” Joe commented with a smirk when Ben sauntered into his apartment. “How many beers did you have?”  
  
“If I tell you, will you judge me?” Ben asked, already taking it upon himself to recline into the couch.  
  
“When do I ever judge you?” Joe asked as he went into the kitchen.  
  
“Okay, I had four,” Ben answered and kicked off his sneakers.  
  
“Four? That’s not bad. It’s after 5, right?” Joe replied, handing Ben a glass of water. “And let me say, congratulations on your casting. Are you excited?”  
  
“Yeah, definitely,” Ben said and chugged the water. “We went over that play how many times? I’m really excited to be in the theater again.”  
  
Joe twirled a lock of Ben’s hair between his fingers. “I can’t wait to see it. And I can’t wait to rehearse all the lines with you,” he said. “So who’s the guy you went to the bar with?”  
  
“AJ. He got cast as Ben, ironically.”  
  
Joe smiled. “Is it hokey if I say I’m proud of you?”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because, aside from getting cast--which is amazing by the way--you made a new friend. That’s not easy.”  
  
“It’s not, no. I was shocked, too, since he was the one that asked me to go out.”  
  
“I’m not shocked,” Joe replied then paused. “Well, maybe a little, considering how closed-off and intimidating you can seem at first.”  
  
“Resting Ben Face,” Ben said and leaned into Joe, kissing him softly. “I’m so glad that didn’t stop you.”  
  
“How could it? Your face is still beautiful even in Resting Ben mode,” Joe replied, holding Ben’s jaw in his hand. “More beautiful when you smile, though.”  
  
Ben did smile, a shy, self-conscious smile, and Joe kissed him until their lips parted and their tongues met.  
  
“Should I?” Ben asked as he kissed down to Joe’s neck, very gently sucking on his skin.  
  
“Scarf weather has passed,” Joe moaned.  
  
“Aw.” Ben pulled the neckline of Joe’s shirt down and kissed his collarbone.  
  
Joe laughed. “You really do get so frisky when you’ve been drinking.” He leaned back into the couch and pulled Ben halfway on top of him.  
  
Ben went for Joe’s fly, unbuttoning and unzipping it and sliding his hand in between the denim and Joe’s boxers.  
  
“It was a good day,” he said and kissed Joe on the mouth again.  
  
It had been a good day--and there Ben was, making out with his incredibly supportive and beautiful boyfriend on the couch in the middle of Brooklyn, able to experience each moment as it came. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how long he had gone without Joe being a regular part of his life and then he couldn’t imagine it any other way. Through the incredible times they had together on set, the confusing and often brushed aside sexual tension, to communicating only through their phones for so long, they had made it and they were together, which was all Ben had wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this chapter would be a little more hot and heavy than it ended up being. But we all know there's always room for some lowkey smut in the future.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, I hope your weekend has been going well--this is a longer one to top that off for you and I hope you like it<3 There's even quite a bit of softcore smut, all from Joe's POV;)

“‘I just knew,’” Joe said, reading from the copy of the play which he and Ben were rehearsing chunks of almost nightly. Joe was more than happy to help--it was actually a fun sort of way to wind down his day, and watching Ben grapple with his certain lines and actions was pretty cute.  
  
“‘And the bank was an old card table along the edge of an abandoned boardwalk?’” Ben replied from the other chair. They had arranged Joe’s kitchen table chairs in the middle of the living room floor, emulating a backyard patio.  
  
Ben paused to stare at the pages before letting the book flop down into his lap with a huff. “Did that sound genuine?” he asked Joe.  
  
“Yeah,” Joe answered. “They’re just talking. You sound like you’re having an actual conversation, so that’s good.”  
  
“I feel like that’s the hardest part of acting sometimes,” Ben said. “Just getting mundane conversations to actually sound _real_.”  
  
“It’s also your first line. It’s like a first impression--you wanna nail it.” Joe glanced at the text on the page again. “I think you’ve got it, Ben. Really. But you have rehearsal in a couple days, so I’m sure Martha will give you a more concise critique than I will. Do you wanna keep going?”  
  
Ben sighed and slumped in the chair, spreading his legs out and letting his arms dangle between them. “Let’s take a break. I feel like we’ve gone over the first page like a hundred times,” he said.  
  
Joe chuckled. “We kind of have. At least you don’t have to fiddle with the umbrella like AJ does in his first line.” He stood up and went behind Ben to massage his shoulders. “You have that to your advantage.”  
  
Joe really did like running lines with Ben and he couldn’t wait to see Ben performing onstage for the first time--sure, before they had even started dating, he had somewhat shamefully Googled the photos of Ben nude during _The Judas Kiss_ and, despite seeing him naked countless times since--the pictures really were titillating--being able to see a full performance of Ben in a play the he was so excited to perform in the first place was something Joe was looking forward to. He wanted to be in the front row on opening night, applauding emphatically, ready to hand his boyfriend a bouquet of flowers and capture him in a kiss after the curtain fell.  
  
However, Joe had plenty left on his plate--he was almost in the final stages of his latest screenplay and was working on the logistics of it all, including production costs, recruiting the crew and last minute casting calls, and the location, of course. He had managed to veto LA--after his bout of food poisoning he felt like he needed to abstain from that city a little longer anyway. The only thing that could get him back there would be Rami. So, Joe was looking at an area upstate, a midsize city surrounded by the myriad of farmland and suburbia that would be ideal. It would still be a hike--about a 6 hour distance from Brooklyn--but he was able to counteract his worry with fantasizing about him and Ben being up there together, waking up to plush lawns and birds chirping and the gentler air, drinking coffee on a porch as the smoke from Ben's cigarette floated away.  
  
He had time. Joe wanted to take everything one step at a time and right then the first step was to see Ben performing onstage.  
  
“A few more weeks,” Ben said, snapping Joe out of his upstate New York-trance. “And then a few shows and then it’s done.”  
  
“Don’t say it like that,” Joe replied, smoothing his thumb into the crook of Ben’s neck. “Don’t wish it away.”  
  
Ben sighed and leaned into Joe’s touch. “No, I don’t mean it like that. I just really appreciate you doing this with me. I don’t wanna overwhelm you.”  
  
Joe leaned down and kissed Ben’s temple, strands of blonde hair tickling his upper lip. “You’re not, I promise. This is really fun, actually,” he assured him.  
  
“When will you let me read more of your screenplay?” Ben asked, turning to look at Joe, his hand reaching backward to gently grab Joe’s thigh.  
  
“Soon, I promise. I’m still editing. I think the last portion to read actually changed a bit,” Joe answered, resuming rubbing Ben’s shoulders.  
  
“You’ve been so secretive about it.”  
  
“I just value your opinion and--well, I think it would be a huge blow to my ego if you didn’t like it.”  
  
“Joe, I’m not even a writer. My opinion would be shallow at best.”  
  
Joe leaned back down, his fingertips on Ben’s neck, and said, “Your opinion is everything.”  
  
Joe meant that--Ben’s opinion meant more to him than anyone else’s. Well, except for his mom, but of course Virginia had gushed about Ben after they all met for dinner, and when he relayed that to Ben, he had seemed so utterly relieved that Joe had to laugh a little. He thought Ben was as close to perfect as a person could get so he could never fathom how deep his anxieties about Virginia's approval went. After all, Joe had known it was pretty much a given. She loved Ben too--she told Joe that they seemed to “fit” together and she also boldly pointed out that whenever Ben looked at Joe, she could tell he was gaga over him.  
  
So that was very reassuring, but Joe didn’t know if Ben would be gaga over his writing. So far he had been, cheering Joe on whenever get completed another step in the process of writing the screenplay, editing, and working through all the moving parts, but Joe had been reluctant to let Ben read much more of it. He didn’t even want to think about Ben actually watching the completed film--what if he didn’t like it? Joe had to take a step back and breathe sometimes just thinking about it, reminding himself that, ultimately, he was writing and producing this for himself and even if Ben didn’t like it, well, he’d probably never be so transparent about it anyway.  
  
“I’m glad you think so,” Ben said and kissed Joe’s fingers before he stood up, going to the kitchen. “You ready for our double date tomorrow?” He turned back holding the infamous Brita pitcher with a grin.  
  
Joe groaned quietly. “I want to say ‘yes’ with full enthusiasm,” he said. “Especially considering this will be our very first double date, but--” He trailed off, not able to phrase his thoughts. He was sort of excited for it but it also was more stressful--he hadn’t met AJ yet, so then he had to meet him for the first time _and_ AJ’s date. It was twice the work, twice the hyper-vigilance of Joe's behavior and social cues, having to be attentive to all the pauses in the conversation and how he chose his words.  
  
“I’m telling myself it’ll be fun even though I’m not entirely enthusiastic about it myself,” Ben replied after taking a sip of water. “I haven’t been on a double date in years and they were never that fun back then. Also AJ said this is only his third date with this girl, so like, what is that? Is that normal for people?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Joe grabbed a glass for himself. “I never did that. It seems awkward--she has to meet both of us but she barely knows AJ? Maybe it’s what young people do.”  
  
“AJ is my age,” Ben said.  
  
“Yeah, but you’re with an old timer now. It’s different.”  
  
“God, you’re not old.”  
  
“You say that now, but I’m thinking you might feel differently after you see my awkwardness during this double date.”  
  
“Please, you have more social decorum than me.” Ben leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Remember: Resting Ben Face.”  
  
Joe moved in front of him and held his face in his hands, caressing Ben’s cheekbones with his thumbs and resting his forehead against his brow bone. Ben’s skin was so warm against Joe’s and every time he looked in his eyes, he could just melt away into the irises of cool, pale green and blue, like two crystal clear pools.  
  
“And what a pretty face it is,” Joe said. “Even when you have that defensive, intimidating look plastered on. It can fall away so easily with the right words.”  
  
The right corner of Ben’s lip upturned slightly and then he pouted. “Well, not that easily,” he countered. “It has to be the right person.” He placed his hands on Joe’s hips, slipping past his t-shirt and resting his fingers on Joe’s bare skin.  
  
A tingle ran down Joe’s spine. Still smoothing his thumbs over Ben’s cheeks, he tilted his head down and barely brushed his lips against Ben’s, just enough so Joe felt the tingling sensation in his skin and for Ben to sigh into his mouth. Joe smiled as he retreated and looked at Ben’s pink lips, still slightly parted, back to his eyes and back down again, kissing him more with more fervor so the tips of their tongues just met.  
  
Ben leaned into Joe, gripping his hips tighter, his thumbs pressing into the indentations right at the tops of Joe’s thighs, and Ben pressed his body against his. He opened his mouth a little more, coercing his tongue against Joe’s before sucking on Joe’s bottom lip.  
  
Joe pulled back with a little laugh--he _loved_ when Ben did that. “When’s the last time we fucked?” he asked, sliding his hands down to Ben’s waist.  
  
“It’s been a few days,” Ben said and smiled, eyes already becoming half-lidded and glossy. He bit his lip and let one hand make its way to the waistband of Joe’s pants, undoing the fly and sliding down inside.  
  
Joe stifled a moan as much as he could, instinctively digging his fingers into Ben’s waist. “That’s too long,” he said and kissed Ben again, his focus returning to his mouth rather than Ben’s palm on his crotch, his wrist resting against the barely-exposed patch of hair right above Joe's boxers.  
  
Ben kissed him back, parting his lips again and slipping his tongue into Joe’s mouth, gently massaging him through his boxers. Joe wrestled Ben’s tongue with his own and, their kisses becoming harder, messier, their front teeth clacked together suddenly and Ben laughed a little.  
  
His mouth still on Ben’s, Joe half-lifted, half coerced him onto the counter. He grabbed the back of Ben’s head as he spread his legs, letting Joe collapse into him, and removed Ben’s hand from his pants.  
  
“Keep your hands on the counter,” Joe ordered, trying to catch his breath, suddenly extraordinarily turned on.  
  
Ben obliged, putting his arms at his sides and pressing his palms against the granite, his fingers wrapped over the edge. He looked at Joe with a smirk on his lips, already flushed to a deep rose color from their kissing.  
  
“You can’t take your hands off the counter until I say so,” Joe instructed and pressed himself into Ben even more so his waist was pressing into Ben’s crotch. He could already feel the heat and the firmness through Ben’s jeans.  
  
“What if I do?” Ben asked cheekily.  
  
Joe hadn’t actually thought about what he would do if Ben didn’t obey, so he tried to think of something without giving it away that he hadn’t planned ahead, keeping his eyes locked on Ben’s and his hands on Ben’s waist all while stifling an embarrassed chuckle.  
  
“If you take them off without me saying it’s okay,” Joe began, running his hands down Ben’s waist to rest on his hips. “It’s all over. Everything stops. Hard-on or no hard-on.” He knew it wasn’t much of an incentive considering Ben knew that was a total bluff, but it was all he had. Besides, he really wanted to have sex too.  
  
Joe could tell Ben had already called BS on that because he bit his lip and muffled his own laughter. Joe told himself to get back into the zone--he held the side of Ben’s neck in his hand, placing his thumb in the dip above his collarbones.  
  
“You don’t believe me?” Joe challenged.  
  
“Not particularly,” Ben replied and wrapped his legs around Joe, slipping down the counter a little and causing Joe to reach down with his free hand and grab Ben’s thigh to steady him.  
  
His hand still holding Ben’s neck, Joe placed a light kiss on his jaw and kissed down every inch of skin until he was beneath Ben’s ear. He grazed his teeth over the tender skin before kissing the space, then Joe sank his teeth down and massaged Ben’s skin between his teeth for a moment. His lips caressed the area and then he sucked, gently at first then harder, until Ben’s moaning reverberated in his ear.  
  
“I think it’s time I mark you for once,” Joe said, pulling back to look at the fresh lilac bruise already forming on Ben’s neck.  
  
Ben whimpered but he challenged, “That’s all you got?”  
  
Joe smirked. He resumed his love-biting, moving to another inch of skin and repeating the action. Ben moaned louder and Joe mustered a sideways glance down to Ben’s hands, knuckles taut around the counter so that the skin was turning pale from the grip.  
  
“Seems like it’s working,” Joe mumbled against Ben’s neck and moved to another spot, kissing and biting the skin, sucking as his left hand still rested on the other side, his thumb pressing against Ben’s throat.  
  
“You said scarf weather was over,” Ben noted.  
  
“Did I? That’s a shame, Ben.”  
  
Joe stepped back to look at his work--it was beautiful. Ben was totally flushed and his chest was rising and falling just a little rapidly. His neck was stained with the hickeys, raw and bright against his fairness, and his hands were still on the counter.  
  
“I would ask you to take your shirt off,” Joe said, lifting up the hem of Ben’s shirt. “But that would involve you taking your hands off the counter.” He raised the fabric up so Ben’s abdomen and chest were exposed and held the bunched fabric in front of Ben. “Hold this in between your teeth for me.”  
  
Ben looked at the fabric and then at Joe incredulously at first, then he raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”  
  
Joe sighed, conflicted with finding Ben’s back-sass endearing but also wanting him to just go with it without any questions. “Yes, seriously,” he insisted.  
  
Ben eyed Joe for another moment before taking the fabric in his mouth.  
  
Joe bent down and kissed Ben’s chest, in between his pecs at first and then softly kissing his way over before flicking Ben’s nipple with his tongue, earning another moan from him.  
  
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Joe remarked and repeated the action and, glancing down, he saw Ben’s fingers stray from the counter. “Nope,” Joe corrected, pulling away.  
  
Ben looked at him with pleading eyes.  
  
“You’ll keep them on the counter?” Joe asked and Ben nodded.  
  
With that, Joe resumed, dragging the tip of his tongue down Ben’s abdomen, stopping at the waistband of his jeans and biting the soft flesh above it. Ben bucked his hips up and moaned against his makeshift gag and Joe undid his fly, pressing his mouth against the exposed bit of Ben’s boxers, causing him to buck again.  
  
“Can I say one thing?” Ben asked, letting his shirt drop out of his mouth and land haphazardly on his chest.  
  
“What?” Joe asked, his hands on top of Ben’s thighs, his face still in his crotch.  
  
“It’s getting very uncomfortable up here.”  
  
Joe smirked and let his head drop as he chuckled silently. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he said. “Besides, you’ve been good.” He stood up straight and urged Ben off the counter, grabbing his bicep and pulling him into a kiss. 

  


  


Joe wasn’t a big fan of gelato in all honesty but he had to respect AJ’s choice--it was really _his_ date after all, and Joe and Ben were merely accessories, or that’s how Joe felt, anyway. The upside was that they were all outside, sitting at a patio table with the breeze wafting around them and the evening light glowing around them. Joe thought that if AJ and his date Sierra weren’t there, it would have been a perfect outing for him and Ben.  
  
“I can’t believe you got the licorice,” AJ said to Sierra, peering into her dish of black and purple gelato.  
  
AJ seemed nice enough. He had a firm handshake and looked Joe in the eye when he spoke to him and Joe had to admit that AJ had actually been asking him things about his life, but appropriate things, no-nonsense things, and Joe appreciated that. Other than AJ looking a little too long at the hickeys on Ben’s neck, there hadn’t been a single truly awkward moment.  
  
Joe couldn’t help but take note of how good-looking AJ was though, and it, frustratingly, made him feel insecure. AJ had a classic boring-but-beautiful face--everything was symmetrical and proportionate with deep brown eyes framed by long dark lashes and he had a head of thick, shiny dark waves that struck Joe with a pang of envy.  
  
Sierra was beautiful too, with long auburn hair that was similar to Joe’s in color, and dark eyes. Next to her, Joe felt like her uglier older brother and, with all of them, he felt like a lackey to a group of models. So he had gone the entire date reminding himself of all the things Ben had told him, like how pretty his eyes were and how cute his face was and how much Ben loved his smile, and he had to tell himself over and over that he belonged there and that he was successful and he _did_ deserve to feel hot.  
  
“I like licorice,” Sierra replied to AJ’s remark, black staining her lips. “I know I’m in the minority that way, but I think it’s severely underrated.”  
  
“It must be genetic,” AJ said.  
  
“A lot of Brits like licorice,” Ben chimed in. “Actually, a lot of Europeans do too. I think it’s really an American thing to hate it.”  
  
Joe didn’t really have anything to add to that conversation. He thought AJ should accept Sierra’s choice and move on. He had gotten passionfruit gelato which was actually pretty good, but he could have gone with a soft-serve vanilla cone from McDonald's, too. Maybe he really was getting old.  
  
But he couldn’t let his dwindling energy and grumpy mood get the better of him, so Joe said, just to add anything at all, “Maybe it’s an acquired taste.”  
  
Sierra smiled at Joe. “Thank you,” she said, pointing her spoon at him.  
  
“So genetic, probably,” AJ replied and looked to Ben. “Are you ready for rehearsal tomorrow?”  
  
“Yeah, actually. Joe and I have been running lines like mad,” Ben said.  
  
“Really? That’s awesome. I’ve mostly been rehearsing in the mirror,” AJ replied.  
  
“There’s still plenty of time for us to rehearse together if you want,” Ben told AJ.  
  
“Yeah, I’d really like to, I think we could both use it. My schedule is just so weird.”  
  
“Well, we’ll work something out. I don’t think we want Martha criticizing either one of us so severely.”  
  
AJ smiled at that, looking up from his own cardboard dish of gelato and meeting Ben’s eyes.  
  
Joe couldn’t be sure--maybe he was being too sensitive and insecure--but he thought the look AJ gave Ben was more than just a “friend” sort of look. Even Sierra seemed to notice the energy between the two of them, raising her eyebrows and quickly glancing at Joe before returning her attention to the black licorice gelato, scooping up another spoonful. Joe felt his face change to an expression of shocked irritation, his lips pursed slightly, and he stopped himself. He must be over-analyzing it.  
  
But after they finished eating, deemed the night should come to an end and started walking together, Ben and AJ were dominating the sidewalk with their conversation. Joe and Ben had started out side by side, Ben occasionally and purposefully brushing his hand against Joe’s, but the narrow space ended up being infiltrated by AJ. He maneuvered his way in between them, causing Joe to fall back next to Sierra.  
  
Ben and AJ seemed so consumed by their talk of the play that Joe felt comfortable leaning over to Sierra and asking quietly, “Was this weird for you?”  
  
Sierra smiled, her lips still covered in a wash of black, which Joe didn’t feel like he should point out. “Kind of,” she said. “It was his idea to do a double date. I like him, but yeah, I thought it was kind of weird.”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
“I’m just glad you guys are nice.”  
  
Joe smiled then. “I’m glad you feel that way. You too, seriously.”  
  
The walk led to them all parting ways, with AJ and Sierra heading west and Ben and Joe heading back east. Once it was just the two of them and they made their way to the subway, Ben took hold of Joe’s hand, lacing their fingers together.  
  
“So,” Ben began. “How was it for you?”  
  
“Less awkward than I thought it would be,” Joe told him. Ben’s skin was soft and warm in his hand. “Thankfully.”  
  
“For me too. Sorry we talked about rehearsals so much,” Ben said.  
  
Joe didn’t want Ben to apologize for that--it was what he and AJ had bonded over, after all. He was actually feeling grateful that it had been a double date rather than the three of them hanging out, since Sierra and Joe were able to be in each other’s company with extremely limited knowledge of the theater.  
  
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Joe replied. “I wasn’t bothered by it. I think it’s important you talk about it, and it’s really good that you have another actor you feel comfortable hanging out with, y’know?” He meant what he said, but he still couldn’t stop thinking about the looks AJ had shot Ben and the chemistry between them, or at least the chemistry he perceived.  
  
“Thanks for saying that,” Ben said, squeezing Joe’s hand gently. “And if you ever want another pair of eyes on your screenplay, you know I’m here,” he added, tilting his head and slightly raising his eyebrows.  
  
“I know. Thank you.” Joe squeezed Ben’s hand back. “I promise I’ll let you read more of it soon.”  
  
He was probably over-analyzing and anyway it was the first time he had met AJ--the first impression had been positive overall, so why was Joe letting his insecurities get the better of him? He knew he needed to chill out, really. Ben had never done anything to make Joe feel insecure, it was just how he was sometimes and he didn’t like it--he knew with full certainty that Ben would never betray him in any way. Joe just didn’t necessarily trust the actions of other people, people who would make moves on _his_ boyfriend, and Ben could be so oblivious sometimes, always insisting he didn’t think of himself as someone to be lusted after and often totally unaware of when people were flirting with him.  
  
_It was a good night,_ Joe told himself as they headed home, Ben’s hand still in his, their strides in sync. Joe looked at Ben, his profile periodically cast in overhead light through the dusk, and let out a little sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe is better than every other man on the planet and AJ doesn't hold a candle to him, obviously, and we all know Ben is a loyal boyfriend--but will AJ make a move on him? Who can be sure...


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday, my friends! Ben is still on his journey, as we all are.  
> Thank you for your continued support and love <3 This fandom really is everything.

Martha wanted Ben to focus a little more on “who Kenny is,” but she complimented his delivery of most of his lines, so he was feeling more comfortable with assimilating back into theater. He felt pretty confident about his role and rehearsals had been fun, despite often going over the time, leaving Ben to go home an hour or two hours later than he anticipated while mentally and physically depleted. It was only three weeks until the play’s premier and each day went by faster and faster, forcing him to ponder how ready he really felt and to fret over minute issues with both himself and the other actors.  
  
After another Thursday night rehearsal Ben was feeling particularly worn. He wanted to lie in Joe’s bed with him as Joe traced along his back with his fingertips until Ben fell asleep.  
  
His domestic fantasy was interrupted by AJ as Ben was heading out the door.  
  
“That was kinda rough,” AJ said, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Do you wanna get a drink?”  
  
As tempting as a drink sounded, Ben really wanted to be in that bed. “I’m pretty tired,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow?”  
  
“Ah, come on, one drink,” AJ persisted. “We both deserve it after all that.”  
  
Ben didn’t have any actual plans with Joe that night so other than being tired he really had no good excuse. He thought about pausing to call Joe and ask what he was doing, but he disputed that internally, reminding himself that he wanted friends and having friends meant not _always_ being with Joe. Ben also knew that sometimes the fun truly didn't start until after he forced himself to go out, pushing through his own grimacing and anxieties until he was a couple drinks in. Although he wasn't sure if he wanted to go that far tonight.  
  
“Alright, I’m game,” Ben said and tried to muster what physical energy he had left. “Where are we going?”  
  
“There’s a little dive bar not too far that I actually used to go to a lot,” AJ told him. “Lux. I’m not sure if it’ll be your scene, though.”  
  
Ben considered that. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said.

  


AJ had been right though, Lux was not really Ben’s scene. It was a smaller bar and very dark, with a disco ball glimmering above a tiny dance floor, a few lamps smattered about giving off dull yellow glows, and red lights illuminating the liquor bottles behind the bar. There were couples seated by the lamps, lounging on the couch in the corner and the plush chairs nearby. Various paintings were hung on the walls, a number of which were clearly by the same artist and were all low-brow paintings of one-dimensional women with long hair half-covering their nude bodies. Ben thought they were awful.  
  
He was still a little surprised when he went into a bar on a weeknight and saw that it was bustling, having to remember that it was New York. The bar at Lux was full of people leaning on the counter or sitting on the bar stools with their drinks already made, but there were a few open spaces that they could squeeze into. The scene was making Ben feel a little anxious, with the music loud and not what he expected to be in bar--it sounded like The Cure--in addition to the patrons themselves, most of them seeming to be part of the “punk” scene or at least the hipster scene. The punks were adorned in leather, metal, and ripped denim while the hipsters clashed against them in oversized sweaters and stonewashed jeans.  
  
Ben felt out of place and very, very conspicuous.  
  
“I’m gonna go have a smoke,” Ben said to AJ.  
  
“Alright, I’ll meet you out there,” AJ replied, retrieving a bunch of dollar bills from his wallet. “What do you want?”  
  
“Surprise me,” Ben said, just wanting to get outside. He started to walk away then realized he had no idea where he was going so he turned back to AJ and asked, “Where do I go?”  
  
“Past the bar, there’s a door on the right side,” AJ told him.  
  
Ben nodded and headed out past the myriad of bar goers, past the pool table and tried to push on the side door, only to shove his body into it and realize that it was a pull. He hoped no one had been paying attention to his error and made it outside, immediately met with a couple of picnic tables where a few guys were smoking and talking, and a fire pit just past that.  
  
He went to the firepit and sat down on one of the benches, pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one, the smoke truly sweet relief in his lungs. Ben exhaled and checked his phone, finding a text from Gwil:  
  
_London’s not the same without you, Big Ben_  
  
Ben smiled at the screen. He took another drag and typed back:  
  
_I needed that, Gwilym, so thank you. I miss you too. I’m at a punk bar? and I wish you were here to protect me_  
  
Ben could only imagine how different the night would be if it were Gwil and him together. Gwil would give him a dirty look as he pulled out the cigarettes, despite it being a known fact that he was never going to stop, and Ben would make him go get all their drinks, telling Gwil that since he was so tall, he could intimidate more easily and get through the throng of people with no problem.  
  
Then Ben thought of Joe and how badly he still wanted to be in bed with him, wrapped up in the plush comforter getting spooned and cuddled. He typed out another message to Joe:  
  
_I just want to tell you that I love you so much and right now all I want is to be in your bed with you_  
  
Ben tried to relax on the bench as he smoked and eavesdropped on the guys behind him.  
  
“You get a pat on the back, dude,” the guy in the brown fisherman’s hat said to the guy who was sitting on top of the picnic table.  
  
“Dude, I know, I should be getting a ton of financial incentive, right?” the guy on the picnic table replied.  
  
Ben had no idea what they were talking about but he kept smoking with his head slightly tilted toward them, curious.  
  
“Well, he started a bunch of companies before Paypal, I guess,” the third guy, leaning against the wall next to the door, chimed in, taking a drag from his own cigarette. “He dropped out of Stanford.”  
  
“So?” the guy on the picnic table replied.  
  
The third guy exhaled, visibly irritated. “So, he took a huge risk,” he said.  
  
“ _I_ have intel,” said the guy in the hat. “Does he have intel?”  
  
“Oh my god dude, you’re missing the point,” the third guy shot back and took another drag.  
  
Ben also took a drag from his cigarette, praying that AJ would emerge soon. After a few more seconds of back and forth about this mystery man who dropped out of Stanford, AJ did finally pop through the door, holding a drink in each hand.  
  
He handed Ben a glass of reddish liquid. “Vodka cranberry,” AJ said. “I thought it was a safe bet.”  
  
Ben would have preferred a vodka soda but AJ's choice was no one’s fault but Ben's own--at least there were antioxidants in the vodka cranberry. He took a sip through the straw and found that it was passable. He could taste the vodka, meaning he was probably going to get a little buzz after just the one, especially being that he hadn’t had any real dinner, only being able to pick at the food that was at rehearsal.  
  
AJ sat down next to him. “Can I have a drag?” he asked, looking at Ben’s cigarette.  
  
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Ben replied but handed him the cigarette.  
  
“I’ve always been a bit of a social smoker,” AJ told him and put it to his lips. “Especially when drinking.”  
  
“Better than me.”  
  
AJ chuckled and took a sip of his own drink, which Ben guessed was a whiskey sour. “You ever think about quitting?” he asked.  
  
“I mean, yeah, sometimes,” Ben answered. “My friends nag me about it. I know Joe isn’t a fan of it but he tolerates it.”  
  
AJ nodded and took another drag before handing the cigarette back to Ben. “That’s good. It’s hard to quit.”  
  
“I imagine. But I’ve never really tried.” Ben took a drink and finished off the cigarette, tossing it into the fire pit. “You said you used to come here a lot?”  
  
“Yeah, back in my younger days I was sort of a regular,” AJ said. “I used to live nearby and the drinks are cheap here. Well, cheaper than most other bars.”  
  
“Has the scene always been...like this?”  
  
AJ smirked. “Actually, yeah, kind of.”  
  
“You don’t look like you’d fit in here, honestly.”  
  
AJ laughed at that. “I think I might’ve been a little more elusive back in the day. I had to shape up a little as I got older.”  
  
“And yet I see so many middle-aged goths in there.”  
  
“Yeah, you sure do. Some things never change.”  
  
There was a pause and Ben dragged the toe of his sneaker through the soot and ash in front of him. There was still so much to New York that he hadn’t experienced so no wonder going to one measly alternative dive bar made him anxious. There were entire subcultures he had yet to really encounter--he hadn’t seen many “punks” in London since he was a teenager and the other alternative groups he knew of were almost literally all underground, doing God knows what in the basements of clubs and bars.  
  
AJ didn’t dress out of the ordinary--he was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, the basic attire that Ben expected from most men--and neither did Ben.  
  
“How’s it going with that girl--” Ben started to ask, trying to remember her name. “C--god, I forgot.”  
  
“Sierra,” AJ said. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t want anything serious. We’re still kind of seeing each other though.”  
  
“You don’t want anything serious yet you took her out on a double date the third time you guys hung out?” Ben replied, taking another drink and slightly wincing at the acrid taste of the well vodka.  
  
“I thought it would be nice,” AJ said. “I’m terrible at planning dates.”  
  
“I just feel like it sounds sort of serious in that way, like, a double date.”  
  
“You think so? I always thought it was a fact that guys bring girls to meet their friends when they _don’t_ want anything serious.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess so. But you took her out on an actual date with us, you didn’t drag her to some shit party.” Ben sloshed the ice around in his glass. “I hadn’t been on a double date in forever.”  
  
“Oh god, did you hate it?” AJ asked, finishing off his drink.  
  
“No, I didn’t, but I still think it was an odd choice,” Ben replied, also polishing off his drink, practically chugging the last of it. Yeah, he was going to feel that vodka.  
  
“Well, I would’ve been just as content hanging out with you,” AJ said, nudging Ben’s arm.  
  
Ben stopped himself from twisting his lips in confusion. One would think AJ would have wanted to spend time with his actual date, Sierra, alone but whatever, Ben wasn’t going to inquire about that one.  
  
His phone vibrated in his pocket. “Sorry,” Ben said, pulling it out of his pocket. He looked at the screen and there was a text from Joe:  
  
_I love you too. And you’re welcome in my bed anytime;)_  
  
“One more drink?” AJ asked, getting up from the bench.  
  
Ben thought about it and also thought about, yet again, being in bed with Joe. But it was still early, Joe wouldn’t be going to bed for a while and Ben didn’t want to bother him while he was probably still working.  
  
Still, to be safe, he said, “Let me call Joe.”  
  
AJ nodded. “Alright. I’ll be at the bar.”  
  
After AJ went back inside, Ben stood up and called Joe, beginning to pace a little around the fire pit.  
  
“Benny,” Joe answered.  
  
“What are you up to?” Ben asked.  
  
“Right now I’m discussing with someone, well, rather I’m composing an email about their possible role in my movie,” Joe said. “Why?”  
  
“Just curious. I’m out with AJ. Will you be around later?”  
  
“For you? Obviously. Where are you guys?”  
  
“Lux, it’s some alt dive bar.”  
  
“Ooh, salacious.”  
  
Ben chuckled. “Not really.”  
  
“Stay, have fun. I’ll be up for a while longer, so just text me when you wanna come over, okay?”  
  
“Okay. I really do wanna be in your bed.”  
  
“Oh yeah?”  
  
Ben smiled. “Yeah.”  
  
“That can be arranged,” Joe said. “Be careful, Ben. I don’t want you to get eaten alive by a group of hipsters, okay?”  
  
“Sure thing, Joe. I’ll do my best.”  
  
“Alright. Text me.”  
  
Ben hung up and went back inside, making his way past a new group of people who had situated themselves where the three guys had been. The bar was still pounding with alternative rock and the bar looked pretty packed, with the bartenders shuffling around, grabbing dollar bills and pouring out shots and squirting soda into glasses. Ben spotted AJ near the far end by the front door.  
  
“What are you getting this time?” AJ asked, his forearms perched on the bar.  
  
“Vodka soda,” Ben answered, fishing for his wallet. “You?”  
  
“Nah, it’s on me.”  
  
“You got the first one, I get this one.”  
  
AJ shrugged. “Fair enough.”  
  
Drinks in hand, AJ convinced Ben to play darts. He actually liked darts but hadn’t played in a while, and having to toss them in a crowded, dark bar in the middle of Brooklyn surrounded by people wearing spiked denim jackets and combat boots wasn’t necessarily his forte. Still, he was ready to win, fueled by competitiveness and alcohol.  
  
Although Ben quickly learned that AJ had surpassed him in competitiveness--he was a beast when it came to throwing the darts, positioning himself just so, adjusting his feet and his grip before tossing with a level of concentration Ben never really saw with a meager game of darts before. And when the dart wouldn’t hit the bullseye, or not close enough, AJ huffed loudly and took a swallow of his drink every time.  
  
Ben thought it was somewhat humorous to watch. No one else was even paying attention to them, so he felt more liberated throwing his own darts, disappointment creeping in his gut whenever he also scored poorly. At one point he threw a dart clear into the wall, which made AJ gasp in delight at the failure.  
  
They played three rounds, a drink during each, and by the finale Ben was stumbling a little as he aimed yet his throwing had actually gotten better--he and AJ were nearly tied. But AJ won by a few points and whooped in excitement, reached for Ben’s hand and pulling him in, their shoulders pressed against one another’s at AJ clapped him on the back.  
  
“Good game,” AJ said.  
  
“Yeah, good game, mate."  
  
They stepped outside and Ben lit a cigarette before pulling out his phone again to text Joe that he was free.  
  
“Heading home?” AJ asked, leaning against the brick of the building.  
  
“Yeah. I’m ready for bed, mate.”  
  
AJ gestured at Ben’s cigarette. “May I?”  
  
Ben handed it to him, exhaling smoke into the street. “Thanks for this,” he said. “It was fun. Although I pity whoever plays darts with you next.”  
  
“Oh come on, you’re an athlete, you get competition,” AJ said with a smirk, taking a drag.

  


The walk and subsequent subway ride and second walk felt like it took an eon to get to Joe’s apartment and Ben wondered why he had been too dense to get an uber. It was late by the time he got there and Joe hadn’t answered his last text that he was nearing the building. Still, Ben had a key, so he went in and headed up.  
  
He knocked on the door to Joe’s apartment first but no sign of life came, so Ben shimmied the key into the lock and went inside, where the overhead stove lights were still on in the kitchen but the rest of the apartment was dark.  
  
Quietly, Ben crept to Joe’s bedroom and nudged the door open a little more. In the dark he couldn’t really see anything, but he heard the slow, deep sounds of Joe’s breathing. Ben went in and, as silently as he could, took off his sneakers and got in bed next to Joe, gently settling next to him and pulling the sheets over his chest.  
  
Joe murmured something inaudible and rolled over.  
  
“Joe?” Ben said softly.  
  
“Benny?” Joe groaned back.  
  
“Sorry. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”  
  
Joe sat up a little and rubbed his eye. “That’s okay. I’m so glad you’re not a murderer.”  
  
Ben laughed quietly.  
  
“Did you have fun?”  
  
“Yeah, it was fun.” Ben sighed and moved himself closer, tucking his legs in and nuzzling his face against Joe’s chest. “But I’m really glad to be here. I thought about this all day.”  
  
Joe rested his arm on Ben’s shoulder. “Me too.”  
  
Still buzzing from the effects of the vodka and suddenly made warm by Joe’s heat and the weight of all the blankets, Ben felt like he was wrapped up in a cocoon. The weight of Joe’s arm on him and the scent of lavender from his shirt was all Ben needed to drift effortlessly into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is AJ a creep or not? That's up to you to decide. I will say that I think the bro-hug is always a bad move.  
> PS. the thought of cuddling with Ben IRL...dreamy...


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My God, I can't believe we're already on Chapter 18.  
> Well, Ben and Joe stole my heart again. I know--it's old news. The fluff is real, folks.  
> Also, the play I've been using in this is a real play called Detroit by Lisa D'Amour (which I recommend reading if you have any interest in plays), so all credit surrounding that dialogue and those characters goes to the playwright.

When Ben woke up his pants were tangled and twisted around his legs and he was lying face down, his arms tucked underneath the pillow. Dried drool was plastered beneath his bottom lip and his whole body felt sweaty, having been overheated by the combination of his clothes, the plush comforter and Joe’s own body heat throughout the night.  
  
Ben had slept hard, never waking and he had a dream in which he had gone to see Joe perform in the play, them having switched their real-life roles. In the dream, Ben had sat in the front row but the stage was high and he had to crane his neck up to watch the performance, and there had been a fish bowl with a purple betta fish in it in the seat next to him.  
  
The meaning was ultimately unclear but he concluded it was probably all nonsensical and, if it really had any meaning, it only signified his anxiety about the play, which was a given.  
  
Ben rolled over and got up, bending over to adjust his pant legs. He had a slight headache, his mouth was dry and his stomach was actually emitting growling sounds, his punishment for having not eaten an actual meal since the afternoon the day before. He looked at his phone--it was a little after 8 in the morning and he had a text from Gwil:  
  
_did you survive the bar?_  
  
_shockingly, I did. But I do have a bit of a hangover now and I ended up passing out in my same clothes. Please airdrop a full English thx_ Ben typed back.  
  
When Ben emerged from the bedroom he found Joe sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee. At the sound of Ben’s feet on the floorboards, he turned his head.  
  
“You slept like a rock,” Joe said.  
  
“I did,” Ben replied, reaching his hand up and touching the dried drool with his fingers. “I feel gross. I’m gonna shower.”  
  
“I left a clean towel for you in the bathroom,” Joe said. “What do you want for breakfast?”  
  
“Well, I told Gwil to bring me a full English, but I guess I can’t count on that for a while.”  
  
Joe smiled. “I’ll do my best.”  
  
“Wait, how long have you been up for?”  
  
“Like half an hour.”  
  
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t hold up _your_ breakfast.”  
  
“Nope. You and I are going to eat that together like the married couple we basically already are.”  
  
Ben laughed. “Alright.”  
  
“And you better come out of there still naked,” Joe called as Ben headed for the bathroom.

  


After the much needed shower Ben--against Joe’s demands--borrowed a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from Joe so he didn’t have to wear the entire dirty outfit that was also probably reeking of alcohol. That was one of the many perks of dating Joe--they could borrow one another’s clothes, at least when Ben’s rugby thighs and biceps didn’t interfere with that.  
  
“What are you making?” Ben asked Joe as he sat down at the kitchen island.  
  
“You’ll see,” Joe said and turned away from the stove to give Ben a glass of water. “Want coffee?”  
  
“I’ll get it.”  
  
“No, no, I got it.”  
  
“It’s already brewed, just let me get it.”  
  
“No, I got it.”  
  
Ben could only shake his head and smile to himself as Joe grabbed him a mug and poured the hot coffee inside of it. Joe was the only person he had ever felt comfortable doting upon him.  
  
“So how was the bar?” Joe asked, handing Ben the mug and turning back to the stove.  
  
“Alright. We played darts,” Ben said. “AJ is even more competitive than I am.”  
  
“Oh man. How much did you lose by?”  
  
“Seven points, if you could believe that.”  
  
Joe went around the counter after turning the burner of the stove off and wiping his hands on a dishtowel.  
  
“Before I forget,” he said, placing his hands on Ben’s shoulders and leaning down, placing a soft, gentle kiss on his lips.  
  
Ben leaned into it, tilting his head so their mouths meshed. “I needed that,” he said after they broke away from each other.  
  
Joe ran his fingertip over Ben’s jaw. “I’m really glad you slept over, even if I was half-asleep when you found me.”  
  
“It’s crazy how hot you get though,” Ben said. “I should have opened a window.”  
  
“I’m your personal space heater,” Joe replied, running his hand through Ben’s damp hair and returning to the stove. He got two plates from the cupboard and started to assemble them, and Ben still couldn’t see anything, but he could smell cooked onions and butter.  
  
“An English-American breakfast hybrid,” Joe declared, setting a plate in front of Ben. He had made omelettes, fried tomatoes on the side, toast and sausages.  
  
“Jeez, you went all out,” Ben said, his stomach going back to growling as he eyed the food. “A hybrid just like us.”  
  
“Exactly.” Joe sat down next to him. “Don’t expect much from the sausages, though. They’re nothing like the ones you have in England.”  
  
Ben sliced into the omelette and took a bite. “This is good. Seriously, just what I needed.”  
  
“I’ll always do my best to keep you fed,” Joe said.  
  
“I appreciate that,” Ben replied and sliced into the tomato. “Especially now with all the rehearsals, my diet has just been shit.”  
  
“Opening night is coming up so soon. I can’t wait to see you in the full performance.” Joe smiled at Ben.  
  
“I wouldn’t have even gotten to do this if I had never come here,” Ben mused. “I do wish Gwil and Rami could see it, too.”  
  
“Will they let me record it from the audience?”  
  
“Actually, now that you mention it, I think someone’s going to be filming it.”  
  
“Good. We can send it to them.”  
  
The breakfast Joe had so kindly made eased Ben’s hunger and cut the last remaining bit of vodka sitting in his stomach and, sitting there in Joe’s t-shirt, he felt at home, with the anxieties of rehearsals and performing and opening night were kept at bay then. Ben was enveloped by the morning light coming through the windows and Joe’s unwavering support, and that was all he really needed. 

  
  


He did have rehearsal in the evening but before that happened, Ben wanted to have as much of a personal day as he could. He had left Joe’s in the mid-morning, letting him get back to his own work, and Ben decided to finally drag his ass to the gym after days of neglecting his usual routine.  
  
After a warm-up on the treadmill, the reps were more painful than usual, the weights felt heavier, and he had been sweating furiously, but he pumped out the bench presses, bicep curls, reverse curls--well, nearly every curl he could think of--and finished off with as many push-ups as he could do. Ben thought that he might try to have Joe sit on his back the next time as an extra challenge.  
  
Yet another shower completed, Ben went out to take some pictures and planned to get something to eat before he had to head to the theater. It was a warm, only slightly breezy afternoon and the sun was still high. Brooklyn seemed quieter than normal despite the weather, or perhaps because of it, with everyone around seeming to be in better spirits, walking around a little slower and less hurried. Ben even bumped into someone on the sidewalk but instead of a hateful glare, the other guy actually apologized, something Ben had never experienced anywhere in New York before.  
  
He revisited the “London tree,” looking up at it and taking in the tranquility of the shiny green leaves, all rustling slightly with the breeze, reflecting the sunlight, the entirety of it looking a little more lively than it had during his first visit. Ben turned his camera up and snapped a shot, not intending it to be good by any means but something he could have to just capture the moment.  
  
There was no real philosophy when it came to Ben’s photographs--whatever he wanted to remember when he had his camera, he took a picture of. Throughout the years he had become more skilled with working the technology of the camera itself and dabbling in editing, and of course he could be hyper-critical of his own art, but all in all, he tried to have fun with it while he was doing it. He always found something interesting to see or some small, fleeting moment that he wanted to hold onto and that day was no different. The sun was hitting the earth in all sorts of peculiar and pretty ways, and Ben would tilt his head to the side to observe what was in front of him before lifting the camera to his face, adjusting the exposure and the focus, and freezing time.  
  
The clean air and the sun’s heat through his clothes just felt so good on his skin. Summer was Ben’s favorite season and it was getting close to it in New York, although he felt like he was going to miss the hazy, cool English summer rains when the stagnant summer heat of New York rippled through the streets. With the warmer weather, the stench of trash and urine had already worsened and Ben was just glad that he was able to live in an area where it was kept at a minimum. His neighbor had a compost pile in their space behind the building, which Ben appreciated from an ecological standpoint but also resented because of the smell of rotting fruits and vegetables that wafted through the air.  
  
Ben walked to Dweebs, a coffee shop in Bushwick that he had been to once before with Joe, got an iced latte and a sandwich and sat next to the window in a worn leather chair. He pulled his copy of the play from his backpack and opened up to where they had last left off in rehearsals. 

  
  


Scene 6 in the play opened with the characters of Kenny and Ben sitting outside Ben’s house drinking beer. In the rehearsal of it, the real-life Ben and AJ were both holding empty Budweiser bottles and sitting on a disembodied set of steps.  
  
“‘Well, whatever new job I get they’re gonna garnish the paychecks,’” Ben said.  
  
“‘Have you ever thought of sitting down with a credit specialist?’” AJ replied.  
  
“‘I thought I _was_ sitting down with a credit specialist.’”  
  
“‘And how much do those specialists usually cost? When you pay full price?’” Ben paused for a moment. “‘I’m not asking for a lot of money. I just need to place some value on my time. Services cost money. If you offer something for free, it is seen as having less value. My book told me this.’”  
  
“‘How is twenty-five dollars going to make a difference to you right now?’”  
  
“ It’s the principle. I’ve got to stick by my principles.’” Ben pretended to take a sip of the beer. “‘It’s not a lot of money.’”  
  
“Alright, let’s stop there for a second,” Martha interrupted. “That was really good. Very real. But AJ, remember that Ben also takes a sip of beer when Kenny does.”  
  
“Oh, right,” AJ replied.  
  
The rest of rehearsal was focused on Scene 6 and by the end of it, Ben was tired of talking and a thin layer of sweat coated his body, from both the exertion and focus he had to emit and also the stuffiness inside the theater.  
  
“Dude,” AJ said, approaching Ben as he put the play back into his bag. “We’re so close to opening night. At this point I’m ready for it.”  
  
“Me too, kind of,” Ben said. “Martha’s pretty pleased with everything so far, so that’s good.” He stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder and he and AJ walked outside together.  
  
“There’s this club that’s opening up on Friday night,” AJ said as Ben lit a cigarette. “You wanna go?”  
  
“What kind of club is it?”  
  
“Other than a typical nightclub, I’m not sure honestly. It’s called Tilt.”  
  
“Tilt?”  
  
“Yeah. They’re doing half-priced well drinks and well shots.”  
  
Ben thought of the well vodka from their last nighttime excursion and felt his stomach twitch. “What time are they opening?”  
  
“I think 10.”  
  
“That’s kind of late.”  
  
“Oh come on Ben, we’re not that old yet.”  
  
Ben took a drag. “I’ll think about it. But I haven’t been clubbing in years, and it was never really my scene back then, either.”  
  
“It’s supposed to be a good one.”  
  
Ben chuckled. “Is that a new concept? I’ll ask Joe if he wants to go,” he said. “I think getting him into a nightclub will be far more fun.”  
  
AJ shrugged. “Go for it. They’re gonna want full capacity, I’m sure.”  
  
“Are you gonna bring anyone?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
Ben nodded. “Then ‘maybe’ it is.”

  
  


“Why don’t you let me come here more often?” Joe asked, walking in behind Ben to the inside of the loft. “This open space is great. Plus now that you’ve decorated and gotten all your things in their places, it really feels like your home.”  
  
“I know, it’s a lot nicer but I still like your apartment more.” Ben dropped his keys on the table next to the door, kicked off his shoes and went across the loft to the bed, flopping down on it. “I’m tired,” he said.  
  
Joe followed, sitting next to Ben. He reached his hand out and stroked Ben’s hair. “You’ve been just going and going lately,” he said.  
  
“It’s good. Great, really. But yeah, I’m kinda beat tonight.”  
  
“Too beat for this?” Joe asked and rolled on top of Ben, resting his right knee in between his legs and keeping himself propped up on his hands. He bent down, removing his right hand from the bed and holding the side of Ben’s face, and kissed him, turning his head slightly so his upper lip landed flush on Ben’s upper lip.  
  
Ben was indeed very tired, so tired that when he closed his eyes to kiss Joe back he initially felt like he was going to be washed away into a dream, but then Joe’s tongue slipped gently into his mouth and Ben reached up to pull Joe closer, quietly moaning into his mouth.  
  
“Not too beat for that,” Ben said. “I like that.”  
  
Joe smiled. “Good.”  
  
Ben pulled Joe’s full body weight on top of him, letting Joe rest his head on his shoulder. “Would you wanna sit on top of me while I do push-ups sometime?” he asked, stroking Joe’s back.  
  
“You think you can do it?” Joe asked with his face pressed against Ben’s shoulder.  
  
“I dunno. But I like this,” Ben said, still tracing circles and swirls on Joe’s back with his fingertip. “Just your weight on top of me feels so good. And my god, you’re always so warm.”  
  
Joe giggled and nuzzled Ben. “Well, I really don’t want to suffocate you so please just let me know what that starts to happen.”  
  
“Spoon me then,” Ben replied, feeling a little bashful at using the actual term like that, but Joe looked at him with such glowing adoration and joy that he couldn’t be bothered for long.  
  
“Gladly.” Joe moved to the side, encouraging Ben to roll onto his side and Joe curled against him from behind, his left arm resting around Ben’s waist.  
  
Ben sighed contentedly and shimmied against Joe until he was totally comfortable. He closed his eyes and then felt Joe’s arm wrap tighter around him, his fingers applying gentle pressure to Ben’s abdomen.  
  
“I know your other arm will fall asleep soon,” Ben said, eyes still closed. “So we can switch when that happens.”  
  
“Oh please, I know how much you love being the little spoon. I’ll survive,” Joe said. “Relax, baby.”  
  
_Baby._ Ben always felt extra-special whenever Joe called him that.  
  
He held Joe’s hand against his abdomen, lacing their fingers together. “Thanks Joe,” he said softly, sighing again and starting to feel sleep truly overtake him. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you too,” Joe said softly back into Ben’s ear, tickling his skin with his breath and squeezing Ben’s fingers.  
  
Sleep closed over Ben and when he woke up he couldn’t remember any dreams, but when he rolled over Joe was still next to him, breathing steadily and incredibly warm against Ben's own body. He curled against him, resting his cheek against Joe's shoulder blades, and dozed off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could you imagine Ben and/or Joe in a nightclub? I just picture Ben doing a couple shots and becoming way more drunk than intended just to remain in one place. I think Joe would be really difficult to wrangle back home for the night.  
> I do hope that this many chapters isn't overwhelming for any of you but please know I have no concrete end-date in mind, I'm planning to write this as long as I'm still having fun with it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my darlings--I have to apologize for the later-than-usual-ish update. Things have been kind of hectic. But our boys are at it again and this time, well...you'll see.

“Where’s AJ?” Joe asked as he and Ben approached the line of people outside Tilt. The music within the nightclub was pounding through the walls of the building so loudly that even the sidewalk felt like it was thumping.  
  
“I don’t know,” Ben replied, glancing at the only-slightly menacing looking bouncer at the front of the line. “Let me check my phone.”  
  
“I wonder how long these people have been standing here,” Joe said, peering at the other clubbers.  
  
It was an interesting array of people--mostly seeming to be in their 20s but there were some older people dispersed throughout the line, and the styles of clothing had no uniformity to them. There were barely-21 year olds in casual streetwear, girls in sequined jackets and leggings, middle-aged men in sweaters and suit jackets, and a whole slew of other outfits and colors that neither Ben nor Joe could even take in at once. They had gone casual themselves--Ben was in a white t-shirt with a black vinyl jacket and Joe was in soft maroon button-down and jeans.  
  
At least no one else was trying to fit in with anyone else.  
  
AJ had sent Ben a text that he would be there soon. Ben slid his phone back into his pocket and slipped his arm through Joe’s.  
  
“I hope the cover charge isn’t more than 5 dollars,” he said.  
  
“I’m guessing 10, at least,” Joe said with a grimace.  
  
Ben rubbed his arm. “Don’t worry, I’m so sure it’ll be worth it,” he said with more sarcasm than he had intended. He had plenty of intent to have fun but what he had told AJ before still stood--he hadn’t been to a club in years, which made him feel very out of his element. He was so grateful Joe begrudgingly joined them--Ben didn’t feel like he could survive alone.  
  
They were inching closer and closer to the entrance, the silent and still bouncer’s grimace more impending. Ben reached into his pocket and patted his wallet, making sure it was still there, then checked his phone again but saw no new texts from AJ. A few minutes later they were paying the ten dollar cover charge which Joe had correctly guessed and heading inside.  
  
The music was so deafening that Ben couldn’t decipher any lyrics, it was garbled voices against a painfully loud bass, and it was so dark inside that he grabbed onto Joe’s hand so he wouldn’t lose him. After a few seconds his eyes adjusted a little and he took in the people dancing, the people hanging around at the bar, and the stray people lingering in all corner, under doorways, and against the walls. Ben could feel his heart start to race with anxiety.  
  
“Drink?” he shouted to Joe.  
  
Joe nodded.  
  
They shoved as politely as they could while also worming their way through the crowd to make it to a small space in the middle of the bar. Ben leaned onto the counter as Joe was forced to stand behind him due to the overcrowding.  
  
“How long do you think I’ll have to wait?” Ben asked Joe.  
  
“Hopefully not long,” Joe replied. “Besides, you’ve got a pretty face and most of the bartenders are women.”  
  
Joe was right again--Ben didn’t have to wait long before a bartender with a long blonde ponytail and a forearm of tattoos approached him.  
  
“Two shots of vodka,” Ben said to her. “The well shots are half-price, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” she said back. “Six bucks.”  
  
Ben handed her a ten dollar bill and turned to Joe. “Six dollars for two shots. Maybe I actually do like this place,” he said and handed Joe a shot, sloshing some of the vodka over the rim. “Cheers.”  
  
“Cheers to what?” Joe asked.  
  
“To trying new things? To being in a club?”  
  
“No, I got it--cheers to your beautiful face, which allowed us to get our drinks that much sooner.”  
  
Ben nodded approvingly. “I’ll take it.” He tapped his shot glass against Joe’s and they tipped their heads back to swallow them. The bitter taste of the vodka barely registered on Ben’s taste buds against the commotion of their surroundings. He wanted to stay at the bar but he hated when other people did that, making it impossible for people who actually needed to get drinks, so he said to Joe, “Let’s do another.”

  
  


Ben and Joe were worming away from the bar and to a door which Ben thought could lead to an outside area, desperately needing a cigarette, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, he whipped around only to see AJ.  
  
“Hey,” AJ said loudly over the music, regarding both Ben and Joe. “Sorry I’m so late.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Ben said. “The line was really long when we got here. Did you get a drink?”  
  
“Not yet. Come on, let’s all get one.”  
  
Ben looked at Joe.  
  
“I could use another,” Joe said. “Something to drown out all this noise.”  
  
AJ couldn’t convince Ben or Joe to do another shot yet, so he took back a shot of whiskey solo while Ben and Joe got their own cocktails. Ben held onto Joe’s hand as the three of them made their way to the door, which led to a staircase and that led them to the roof of the building, where all the smokers and other people just needing a breather could convene.  
  
“Thank God,” Ben said and fished out his cigarettes, quickly lighting one. The inhalation was so relieving.  
  
“I’m already sweating,” Joe said, leaning against the railing that lined the roof.  
  
“I figured it would be packed but I still can’t believe this many people are here so early,” AJ said. “And what music are they playing?”  
  
“Not quite pop, not quite EDM?” Ben replied.  
  
“I thought I heard Ariana Grande in there,” Joe said.  
  
“You didn’t bring anyone?” Ben asked AJ. AJ hadn’t told him much more about his love live other than still “sort of” seeing Sierra, but he figured that AJ didn’t want to be with another couple while he was solo. Then again, it was a club--maybe not the best spot to bring a date, Ben remembered.  
  
AJ shrugged. “Maybe I’ll find someone here tonight.”  
  
Joe laughed. “If anyone can hear you in there.”  
  
Ben flicked the ash from his cigarette. “Joe, you have to get the party started,” he said. "I’m not gonna be the first one to dance.”  
  
“Alright, I’m willing to sacrifice myself to the crowd,” Joe said. “But you guys have to join me eventually. I’m not gonna bust a move by myself the whole night.”  
  
“Don’t worry man,” AJ said. “A couple more shots and I’ll be right there with you.” 

  
  


The shots of vodka had seeped nicely into Ben’s bloodstream by the time they all went back inside the club, exasperated by the cigarette and giving Ben an intense rush of blood to his head. The alleviation of anxiety from the alcohol as well made it easier for him to navigate down through the crowd, feeling more carefree and unbothered by the commotion, even as he stumbled slightly in the doorway and knocked into Joe’s arm, who smiled at him.  
  
Ben never felt comfortable dancing though, drunk or not. That was a level of vulnerability he never was able to showcase to the world and he didn’t necessarily mind it--dancing was for him and Joe or, on even rarer occasions, it was for him getting so wrapped up in a song--and Queen’s songs had more often than not been the ones to do that--that he just had to dance around in his home, comforted by the four walls of privacy and curtains over the windows.  
  
But after AJ stuck to his word and threw back a double shot of whiskey, Ben watched him maneuver into the undulating crowd and dance. It was a somewhat uncoordinated mix of swaying and thrusting his hips as he moved his arms along with them, occasionally tossing his head back with the beat.  
  
As “Poker Face” burst through the club AJ gestured to Ben and Joe from the crowd, urging them to join.  
  
“You going?” Joe asked Ben.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Ben said, though it did look like AJ was having fun. “I can’t dance, Joe.”  
  
“You can dance as well as nearly anyone else here.”  
  
“You go.”  
  
Joe kept his eyes on Ben and looked as though he was going to protest, so Ben was grateful when Joe said nothing, leaving him with a shrug, and made his way to AJ. They danced together and blended with the rest of the crowd as the song went on and eventually Joe urged Ben to the dance floor by mouthing “Come on” and waving him over.  
  
Ben nodded to himself--he was going to dance. He had alcohol, the love of his life and his new friend backing him up, after all.  
  
He moved through to get to Joe and AJ, trying to vibe with the music and move his body as he went. “Poker Face” turned into “Yeah!” by Usher and Ben had to laugh to himself, feeling like he had been transported back by a decade with all the throwback hits. The other people in the crowd began to jump and dance even more wildly, causing the entire dance floor to thump under all the weight.  
  
Joe grabbed Ben’s hands and pulled him close, their thighs meeting as they laced their fingers together. Ben smiled and swayed his hips into him--he was having fun, actually having fun while _dancing_ in a club full of strangers. The alcohol buzzed in his head and he felt light on his feet, and the neon lights gyrating through the room made everyone look shiny and insane, whipping their heads and hair and the smell of booze and sweat and cigarettes permeated the entire space.  
  
Ben, Joe and AJ moved together, bumping into people around them, bumping into one another and Joe started to enthusiastically lip-sync to the deafening pop songs.  
  
Ben felt AJ’s hand on his waist, the pressure slight and warm, before Joe tapped on his shoulder and yelled, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Ben nodded in response and continued to dance, although he could feel sobriety catching up with him through all his sweating and he wanted another drink to keep the buzz going.  
  
“Shot?” Ben asked AJ, shouting over the music.  
  
“Definitely,” AJ shouted back.  
  
AJ had to shout at the bartender too just to get the shots, and Ben toasted to him before they knocked them back.  
  
“That bathroom line must be really long,” Ben said to AJ, trying to catch a glimpse of where the bathroom even was, but it was hard to see through all the people and the lights.  
  
“I can only imagine what's going on in them. Come on,” AJ said and led Ben back to the dance floor.  
  
Whatever song was playing then, Ben couldn’t identify but he didn't care--he could feel the thick, heavy beat and bass in his stomach. He didn’t really know how to move to it so he looked at the other people dancing. He was drunk and feeling more valiant and he did his best to get into the rhythm, trying to mimic but also compliment the moves of everyone else.  
  
AJ moved into Ben, grabbing his hips and swaying with him, tossing his head back. Ben went with it, trying to acclimate to the music and the additional vodka churning in his system. AJ smiled at him through the flashing hot pink and silver lights and Ben smiled back. He didn’t even care that he was sticking with sweat underneath his jacket or how everyone else kept bumping into him or how badly he needed water--he was enjoying himself, and in a club of all places.  
  
“You wanna have a smoke?” AJ asked.  
  
Ben really did, but Joe still wasn’t around and he didn’t want him to think they had disappeared. “Yeah,” Ben replied and tried to get his phone from his pocket but the cramped space didn’t allow him much ability to maneuver, let alone hold out his phone and text.  
  
He and AJ went back up and out. The evening air, though warm, felt so light and cool on Ben’s skin. He wiped away the sweat from his upper lip and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, then pulled out his phone.  
  
_on roof_ he texted Joe.  
  
Ben lit a cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling the smoke and watching it drift away from the roof, glad there was a railing considering how much he was stumbling from the last shot. He took another drag and handed the cigarette to AJ.  
  
“That was fun,” Ben said. “I never dance.”  
  
“That was really fun. You’re not a bad dancer,” AJ replied, looking almost as sweaty and disheveled as Ben, strands of dark hair clinging to his temples. “You just needed a few drinks.”  
  
As the cigarette smoke wafted around them, AJ moved into Ben, pressing him back up against the railing. Ben stumbled into it, off-balance as his heart raced, his fight or flight kicking in as to not keel over backwards to the sidewalk below. But that didn’t happen--AJ pressed his hips against Ben’s and put his hand on his waist, squeezing a little through Ben’s shirt.  
  
Ben didn’t have a conscious thought--only his body reacted when AJ leaned closer to him, his crotch warm against Ben's own thigh. AJ then reached up and held his cheek, kissing him messily on the mouth.  
  
Ben was frozen then. He could taste the whiskey and cigarette smoke on AJ’s lips and it felt like an eternity before he was able to shove him back instinctively, an audible sound of his hands thumping against AJ’s chest as he pushed him away.  
  
“What the fuck?” Ben shouted, drunk and suddenly angry and very, very confused.  
  
“I’m sorry,” AJ said. The cigarette was still burning in his hand and Ben wished he would put it out already.  
  
“What the fuck--” Ben said again and then looked around at the other stragglers on the roof. A trio of girls smoking were staring at them--Ben couldn't think about that then. He turned back to AJ, his heart pounding so hard he felt like if anyone touched him he'd lose it.  
  
“I thought--”  
  
“Thought _what_?” Ben still couldn’t think. He was disoriented by the shock and anger. They had danced together--so what? Nothing Ben had ever done should have led AJ to believe that was okay, drunk or not. And wasn’t AJ _straight_? There were too many questions racing through Ben's mind.  
  
“Dude, I’m drunk, I’m sorry, it’s just--”  
  
“I can’t even comprehend this right now,” Ben said. He felt very sober then. Sober, upset and very hot. He didn’t know what to do at first. He didn’t really know what to say because when his mind was able to slow down, anxiety hit him as he wondered if he was overreacting. But he just wanted to go home.  
  
“I’m leaving,” he said to AJ and did just that, moving past him to the stairwell and tearing down.  
  
He practically mauled his way through the crowd, barreling past the other sweaty, moving bodies until he was outside. Ben took a deep breath and leaned back against the outside of the building as the bouncer eyed him. Ben wasn’t expecting kindness from a bouncer, but he hoped he really didn’t look so drunk and upset that he could be confused as to being on drugs. He pushed away that insecurity and lit a cigarette before checking his phone for a text from Joe.  
  
_where are you?_ Joe had sent.  
  
_out front_ Ben typed back. _let’s go home_  
  
Halfway through the cigarette Joe emerged from the entrance, the music booming as the door swung open.  
  
“Where’s AJ?” Joe asked.  
  
“He’s staying,” Ben replied.  
  
“I’m sorry I disappeared. The line for the bathroom was insane, I assume people doing coke mostly,” Joe said. “And then I ran into this girl I know, Allison, which was just strange. At a club?”  
  
Ben started walking, knowing that Joe would follow. He wanted to go home and shower. “Joe, I have to tell you something,” he said and took a deep drag from the cigarette. That was never a good way to start a conversation.  
  
Joe looked at him. “What is it? Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m okay, I guess I’m embarrassed though. And confused.”  
  
Joe paused then asked, “Do you need to sit? Come on, you look exhausted and you were dancing a lot.”  
  
Ben did want to sit as much as he wanted to keep moving. Sitting would help. Sitting would help him calm down. He followed Joe and they sat down on a nearby park bench.  
  
“What’s up?” Joe asked.  
  
Ultimately Ben knew Joe wouldn’t be hurt by Ben himself--it was AJ who had kissed him. But Ben knew Joe _would_ be inevitably hurt by the act itself, by someone imposing on Ben--a friend at that--and he didn’t want to have to put him through that. But not telling Joe wasn’t an option. Anyway, Ben was a terrible liar despite being an actor. He knew if he tried to pretend like nothing happened, it would burst out of him one day and cause even more chaos.  
  
“I feel so embarrassed Joe,” Ben said. “I just wanna get home and shower.”  
  
Joe looked very worried then. “Ben, what--”  
  
Ben waved his hand holding the cigarette. “It’s nothing really bad. Just--” He paused and swallowed. “After AJ and I went up to the roof, we were smoking and he--he just fucking kissed me?”  
  
Saying it aloud made it seem so much less significant to Ben--it had sucked in the moment, it sucked for him to think about then, especially when it came to how his friendship with AJ would even progress, but saying “he kissed me” sounded childish. He felt like he was making a big deal out of a drunken mistake.  
  
“Oh jeez,” Joe said after what seemed like a very long and tense moment.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Ben said.  
  
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Joe assured him, rubbing Ben’s back gently.  
  
“It’s so stupid. I know he was drunk but I just don’t--I’m confused.”  
  
“Yeah, it is confusing. I mean, I think we both thought he was straight, number one.”  
  
“Yeah.” Ben sighed and took the final drag from his cigarette before stomping it out under his shoe. “But I am sorry.”  
  
“I’m sorry it happened to _you_ ,” Joe said.  
  
“It’s fine, it’s stupid.”  
  
“It’s not stupid. I imagine it’s weird and uncomfortable. He’s your friend.”  
  
Ben sighed again. “Yeah. That bums me out. The first good friend I’d made.”  
  
Joe glided his fingertip down Ben’s spine. “I know.”  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“Me? Yeah, Ben, I’m okay.” Joe chuckled. “Of course I’m not a fan of someone making a move like that on you but what can you do, y'know? Are _you_ okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Confused,” Ben answered. “I just wanna go home and shower and go to bed.”  
  
“We can make that happen,” Joe said and took Ben’s hand, guiding him up. “Let’s go home.” Joe kissed him softly.  
  
As Joe's lips brushed his, Ben thought about how kissing him was better than kissing anyone else, ever, and the mere thought of going back to Joe's apartment where he could stand in a hot shower to get the sweat and alcohol off him, only to collapse into Joe's bed and fall asleep with his arm around him, finally allowed his heart to slow down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never knew how hard trying to describe dancing would be.   
> What a whirlwind! Do you think Ben and AJ can still be friends? And I wonder how Joe really feels about AJ now...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends <3 this one seems like it's a little short but I think it'll be worth it ;)

The image of AJ kissing Ben kept popping into Joe’s mind. Of course he hadn’t even been there to see it but that made him feel worse--he felt like he shouldn’t have even bothered going to the bathroom in the club. He should have stayed to dance more and then it wouldn’t have even happened.  
  
But, Joe realized, it probably would have happened at some other point when he wasn’t around either. And _that_ was worse.  
  
The thought of it, his own imagining of it, made him feel awful. It was by no means the end of the world--it was just a drunken kiss--but AJ pulling that on Ben, and sneakily when Joe wasn’t there was enough for him to keep ruminating over. He knew Ben loved him more than anyone and he knew Ben would never pull anything like that himself, but still Joe felt himself being dragged down by his insecurities.  
  
Joe had gone out for coffee and to do some work but ended up getting so antsy that he went for a walk, periodically squeezing the plastic cup in his hand to hear it crack, but he still couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had to tell someone what happened and there was no better person to tell than Rami.  
  
“So--this guy AJ just kissed Ben?” Rami asked over the phone.  
  
Joe had sped through the whole story of the night out so quickly he couldn’t blame Rami for struggling to string the pieces together. It didn't help that he had asked for an extra shot of espresso in his coffee. “Yeah, on the roof,” Joe said. “When I was still in the club.”  
  
“I mean, that’s messed up, number one. Number two, that’s not something a straight guy does,” Rami said.  
  
“That’s what I think, too. And is it unfair that that upsets me more? Like, he never told Ben he _wasn’t_ straight.” Joe sighed, still walking. “It just feels a little...predatory?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s a little weird. At the end of the day, he knew you two were together.”  
  
“I mean, we’ve all done stuff when we were drunk, but--” Joe paused and stopped walking for a moment before turning around to head back home. “Am I being overdramatic?”  
  
“Everybody does dumb shit when they’re drunk, but you still have every right to be upset.”  
  
Joe nodded to himself. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.” He slowed down his walking pace--hearing validation from Rami made him feel like he wasn’t over-blowing the whole thing.  
  
“What has Ben said about it?”  
  
“Since it happened, not much. I think he’s upset because AJ is his friend, plus they have to put on the play together in a matter of days. You know how he is when it comes to talking about his feelings. It's like I have to pry the information out of him."  
  
“Well, I'm going to encourage you to not do that, despite the temptation. Ben will come around," Rami said. "And that is very awkward for him. It's a tough position for him to be in.”  
  
“It is. I feel bad and I wish I could do something. Of course I haven’t seen AJ since it happened," Joe went on. "I don’t want seeing him in the play to ruin that for me. So I guess I have to find some way to get over this.”  
  
“You will in time,” Rami assured him.  
  
“You’re right. Time heals all wounds, right?” Joe chuckled to himself. “I guess no more clubs for me.”  
  
“I’m still surprised Ben wanted to go in the first place.”  
  
Joe sighed. “He was so excited to have AJ as a friend. That’s one of the biggest reasons he decided to go,” he explained. “I know Ben wants to get out there more, and having someone to sort of guide him was great. But honestly, and this sounds bad, I’m not sure if I even _want_ Ben and AJ to stay friends.”  
  
“I get that.”  
  
"I thought AJ might’ve been into him before this even happened, but what do I know? And I do want Ben to have friends, of course, and maybe this will be fine--”  
  
“Joe, I know this never helps to say, but you gotta try and relax,” Rami interjected. “Whatever happens will happen. If Ben wants to still be friends with AJ, this is something you’ll definitely have to move past.”  
  
Rami was right again--Joe wasn’t sure what Ben was going to do but it was his life and Joe knew he had to right to impede his relationships.  
  
“You’re right,” Joe replied. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”  
  
“And when is the play?”  
  
“Opening night is Friday.”  
  
“I’m sure Ben will give you more of an idea then. But seriously, Joe,” Rami said. “I’m going to implore you to not let this taint your enjoyment of Ben’s performance. You’re there to support him and enjoy the play, not seethe over AJ.”  
  
“Rami, you are just full of wisdom and insight today, seriously,” Joe said. “Thank you for listening. This helped a lot. It helps to have someone verify what I was already thinking. And also challenge the stupid thoughts in between.”  
  
“Of course, Joe," Rami replied with a laugh. "And I’m counting on a video of the performance. I just _have_ to see our Ben on the stage.”  
  
Joe laughed. “You got it.”

 

  


“I love sitting in the grass,” Ben said, running his hands over it as Joe sat down next to him. Joe had taken him to Brooklyn Bridge Park for the night, figuring Ben would want a low-key, relaxing evening before the opening of _Detroit_ the next night.  
  
“Me too,” Joe replied, crossing his legs. “And I can’t even remember the last time I got a good look at the stars. One great disadvantage to living in the city.”  
  
As Ben gazed up at the sky, Joe had to observe the slant of his neck, the straight angle of his jaw that curved up into his ear, the long lashes pointed toward the stars--he held back a sigh just from looking at him.  
  
“How do you feel about tomorrow night?” Joe asked.  
  
Ben lit a cigarette. “Nervous.”  
  
“You’ll be great.”  
  
“I hope so. I mean, I think I will be. I can recite the entire play now.”  
  
Joe hesitated--Ben still hadn’t talked about AJ and he didn’t want to make him even more nervous by bringing him up, but he did want to know how Ben felt about that, if he had made any progress with AJ in keeping the friendship alive, so he asked, “How’s it going with AJ?”  
  
“Alright, I guess. He’s apologized more than once now,” Ben said. “I don’t know.”  
  
“You don’t know if you can still be friends with him?” Joe asked, not sure of what he wanted Ben’s answer to be.  
  
“I don’t know,” Ben said as he exhaled. “I mean, I guess I do want to be friends with him. I’m still a little blindsided by it, though. What do you think?” He turned to Joe then, smoke framing his face and floating past his shining eyes.  
  
“That’s not up to me,” Joe said.  
  
“Well, no, but I genuinely want to know how you feel about this,” Ben replied and turned sideways, lying down and resting his head in Joe’s lap. “No sugarcoating.”  
  
“No sugarcoating?” Joe sighed. “I mean, I’m certainly not happy about it. I feel like he betrayed both of our trusts. And it makes me feel insecure.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Joe shook his head. “No, Ben, you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s my own insecurity.”  
  
“I’d never do anyth--”  
  
“I know, Benny.” Joe ran his hand through Ben’s hair. “It’s not that. It’s like--someone, a friend, rather, had the audacity to do that to you, well-knowing you’re with me and I’m literally in the same building.”  
  
“Yeah. It’s fucked.”  
  
Joe laughed. “A little, yeah. So I’m thinking, Okay, is it me? Do I just seem like I can be easily taken advantage of?”  
  
“That’s sort of how I feel, too,” Ben said and took another drag, turning his head so he didn’t blind Joe with smoke. “I don’t even know what I did to give AJ that message.”  
  
“I don’t think you did anything,” Joe replied, still stroking Ben’s hair. “When we all first hung out I saw how he was looking at you.”  
  
Ben’s eyes widened. “You didn’t say anything to me.”  
  
“I figured I was overreacting or reading it wrong. I didn’t know him.”  
  
“God, I just wanted a friend,” Ben said, laughing a little. “This is so stupid. I should just get over it. He was drunk.”  
  
“You guys are also working together right now, which makes this situation more awkward,” Joe said. “It might’ve been different if that wasn’t the case.”  
  
Ben sighed. “Tomorrow will be alright, I know that. In fact, I’m pretty excited.” He smiled up at Joe. “And I’m so glad you’ll be there.”  
  
Joe smiled back. “I’m excited too. You’ve worked so hard for this--it’s going to be amazing.”  
  
Ben reached his free hand up and laid his fingers on the nape of Joe’s neck, running them up through his hair. “You know I’d never do anything, right?” he asked.  
  
“Of course I do,” Joe replied, feeling bad that Ben even felt compelled to ask--he trusted Ben more than anyone else.  
  
Ben sat up and took a final drag before putting the cigarette out then turned to Joe, all in one fervid motion, to grab him again by the back of his neck and kiss him hard.  
  
It had been a few days since he and Ben had gotten intimate past making out and some groping through their clothes, which Joe theorized was due to Ben’s stress and anticipation over the play, plus AJ’s debauchery to make that stress even worse. Joe leaned into Ben’s pull and kissed him back equally as rushed and hard, slipping his tongue into Ben’s mouth, tasting the cigarette smoke.  
  
Ben got on his knees, holding Joe’s face in his hands as he hovered a little above him, moaning into Joe’s mouth. Joe felt blood already flooding to his groin, felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach whenever Ben kissed him, and almost entirely forgot that they were in a public place--it seemed neither one of their distastes for PDA was stopping them in that moment. Then again, it was very dark and Joe heard no movement around them, although he knew that could change at any moment. But Ben was pulling him closer, kissing him deeper, and that was all Joe wanted and cared about in that moment.  
  
“Come here,” Joe instructed quietly, slightly breathlessly, and rolled onto his back, pulling Ben on top of him.  
  
Ben rested his hand on Joe’s chest, his body flat on the grass beside him, and kissed him again. They laid like that, kissing ferociously with their lips parted and tongues dancing and Joe’s fingers tangled in Ben’s hair, for a couple minutes before Ben straddled him.  
  
He retreated from Joe’s mouth and looked around, perched on Joe’s hips. “I’m so glad there’s no one around right now.”  
  
Joe turned his head and also looked around, surprised to find that they were the only ones in view. He must have had it being a slightly overcast Thursday night to thank, though the glittering white stars still shone above them.  
  
He slid his hands into Ben’s back pockets. “We got lucky.”  
  
“Yeah we did,” Ben replied and started to grind himself into Joe before he bent forward to kiss him again--softly that time--gently pursing his lips into Joe’s.  
  
Joe squeezed Ben’s ass through the denim and emitted a quiet moan against his jaw, bringing one hand up from the back pocket to grab Ben’s hair and pull his head back. Joe kissed his throat, sucking on his Adam’s apple gently with Ben’s hands pressed against his chest, eliciting a moan from Ben's mouth which in turn started to churn the blood through Joe’s body even more. He _needed_ Ben in every conceivable way.  
  
He sucked on Ben’s Adam’s apple harder and Ben moaned louder, the tips of his fingers digging into Joe’s chest. Ben began to grind into him harder in return and Joe could feel the heat from his groin and the bulge in his pants.  
  
“We can’t do this here,” Ben managed to say as Joe still sucked on his neck.  
  
“Why not?"  
  
“People, that’s why.”  
  
“There’s no one here. But if it makes you feel any better,” Joe said and nipped Ben’s throat with his teeth. “I’ll keep doing this and you can be look-out.”  
  
Ben giggled. “I’m tempted to say yes.” He drove into Joe harder with his hips.  
  
Joe groaned. “Such a tease,” he said, though he was loving every second of Ben dry-humping him. He could barely even feel the grass and hard dirt beneath his back, and all scents except for Ben’s cologne, lingering cigarette smoke and the underlying, familiar scent of his skin disappeared from the air.  
  
Ben bent back down and gave Joe a deep, long kiss. He moved down Joe’s body and situated himself between his legs.  
  
“Now _you_ have to be look-out,” Ben declared, resting his head on Joe’s inner thigh, his left hand lingering on the strip of abdomen just above Joe’s crotch.  
  
“God, seriously?” Joe replied and took a moment to glance around the park, miraculously still finding no one, then turned his gaze back on Ben, looking up at him with slightly sleepy eyes. His lips were shining with a slick glaze of leftover saliva and his hair was mussed from Joe’s fingers, and Joe took it upon himself to repeat the action, threading his fingers through Ben’s hair all over again. “Well, the coast is clear.”  
  
“Oh, good,” Ben said and lifted his head from Joe’s thigh. He unbuttoned and unzipped the fly of Joe’s pants and yanked them down a bit before pressing his open mouth against Joe’s crotch, still barricaded by his boxers.  
  
Joe moaned and gripped Ben’s hair tighter. “God, it’s been a little while, hasn’t it?”  
  
Ben took his mouth off Joe’s crotch and Joe could feel the wet spot on his boxers from Ben’s tongue. “Since we fooled around in a public park?” he replied. “I think that’s a first for us, buddy.”  
  
“You know what I mean,” Joe said with a laugh which was quickly subdued by another moan when Ben returned his mouth. He had never thought he would be into exhibitionism--he had dabbled in it and never really enjoyed it before--but with Ben, anything seemed possible.  
  
“Come here,” Joe uttered and tilted Ben’s chin up then slipped his hands underneath Ben’s armpits and pulled him back up. Joe grabbed the back of Ben’s head and kissed him as he took down the fly of Ben’s own jeans, sliding his hand past the boxers, gripping Ben in his hand.  
  
“Fuck,” Ben breathed, pulling back from Joe’s kisses and closing his eyes. Quiet moans were being held back in his throat as he bit his lip.  
  
“See, one of us isn’t such a tease,” Joe said, still working Ben beneath his boxers.  
  
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Ben replied, gripping Joe’s shoulders. “But I like--I like teasing you.”  
  
“I know you do, baby,” Joe said and he felt Ben shiver.  
  
“I love when you call me that,” Ben said and kissed Joe on his mouth, then his jaw, then his neck. Ben moved back down Joe’s body and ended up right back between his legs. “I’m all yours, Joe.”  
  
Joe smiled. He knew that but still hearing it from Ben’s own pretty mouth filled him so much delight and simultaneous primal need, and he held Ben’s jaw in his hand and traced over his bottom lip with his thumb.  
  
“I love you so much,” Ben told him. “More than I ever thought I could love anybody.”  
  
Joe’s heart was racing and he was throbbing underneath Ben’s hand. “I love you too,” he said. “I really fucking love you.”  
  
Ben smiled at him and slowly started to pull Joe’s boxers down. “I still feel bad about the other night. And I know you trust me, but I want to make you totally sure that I am all yours,” he said and hovered over Joe, parting his lips and letting a trail of saliva spill out of his mouth and onto Joe. “I guess I’ll have to show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've been all over the place lately in my actual life but when I was finally able to sit down and write uninterrupted, I had a lot of fun writing this one. I'm sure it's obvious as to why:) love that softcore smut y'all! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did ;)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy May, everyone! Let's start off the new month with a new chapter of our favorite pairing~~  
> Again, all credit/rights/everything for the dialogue and description of the play _Detroit_ goes to the play itself and the author, Lisa D'Amour (and I still recommended reading it for yourselves).

His night with Joe in the damp grass in the middle of Brooklyn Bridge Park, haloed by stars and the lingering glow of distant streetlamps and shop lights, essentially lifted a weight off Ben’s shoulders. He thought back to it as one of his favorite memories, not to mention one of the hottest sexual escapades, and wished he could relive it over and over. But it was Friday, opening night of _Detroit_ , and Ben had to prepare himself for it.  
  
The show was at 7 and rehearsals were at 4, not giving Ben much time between sleeping past his alarm, going to the gym and returning home to force himself to put away the piles of clothes that accumulated in his loft amidst all his rehearsing, stressing and blowing off said stress with Joe.  
  
His phone vibrated on the nightstand.  
  
_I’m so excited to see you tonight_ began a text from Joe. _You’re going to be amazing and I am so so proud of you. Break a leg, Benny. I love you_  
  
Ben smiled and typed back: _Thank you so much, Joe. I love you too and I can’t wait to see you after_  
  
He reverted back to a text he had received earlier from AJ: _you’ve still been giving me the cold shoulder during rehearsals. I hope we can just have a good time today_  
  
Ben was tempted to type back something about how dare AJ assume he _wasn’t_ having a good time but he thought better of it, wrangling in the stress he felt that was trying to work its way into the text messages. Instead, he thought he would try to give AJ another shot, at least just long enough to push through the performances. They were a team, at least during the performances, and Ben didn't want any tension to throw him, or anyone else, off.  
  
_I’m ready to have a good time. I’ll see you in a bit_  
  
With a sigh, Ben locked his phone again and went to finish packing his bag for rehearsals. He had already received a “break a leg” call from Gwil and Rami had cheekily sent him one of the videos Joe made of him and Cardboard Ben, typing, "Your best performance to date, let's see if you can top it tonight," which made Ben laugh and forget the worries of the day for a bit, although it did send a pang of sadness and missing his friends to his heart.  
  
All in all, he was proud of himself--he had come a long way since his initial move to New York, and it helped immensely to have the unwavering support of his best friends. Ben grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.

  
  


Ben was met with AJ’s wide-eyed glance as he looked up from the playbook, hunched over in a chair and already in costume, as Ben walked inside the theater. Ben gave a half-smile and set his bag down before going over to Martha.  
  
“Ben, you’re only two minutes late, so I guess I have to thank you for that,” she said. “Unlike Leslie, who’s still not here. She thinks just because she works on the set she can be late?”  
  
“Well, I’m not sure about that,” Ben replied. “But I wanted to ask if we could run through scene 6 a couple extra times? Or at least part of it. That’s the one thing I’m still grappling with.”  
  
In truth, Ben really didn’t _want_ to go over scene 6 anymore than he had to since that was the scene between just his character and AJ’s character, but because of that he wanted to get it exactly right. He didn’t want his personal feelings interfering with the feelings of his character, and Ben also wanted both of their parts to shine in their scene. He was hoping the text he had sent would pay off.  
  
“Of course, we’re going to run through all of it and for you, Ben, we will spend a little extra time on scene 6,” Martha assured him. “And Katrina should have your costume ready, so do me a favor and hop to it.”  
  
“Sure thing,” Ben said and turned away with a chuckle. If there was anything that was going to get them all through opening night, it was Martha.  
  
As Ben headed backstage with his costume that he retrieved from Katrina, he heard footsteps behind him, only to find AJ standing behind him.  
  
Ben sighed. “First you kiss me, now you’re following me backstage?” It sounded harsher than he had meant it to be.  
  
“Oh come on, it’s not like that,” AJ said. “You’ve been avoiding me, dude.”  
  
Ben sighed again. “I’m not trying to avoid you, really, I just wanted to keep things professional, I suppose,” he said. “It’s been a little strange for me.”  
  
“For me too. And again, I’m really sorry,” AJ said, crossing his arms in front of himself. “It was stupid.”  
  
Ben was inclined to agree but he didn’t comment on that. “I appreciate your numerous apologies,” he said. “But Joe is a different story.”  
  
“Fuck. He’s pissed?”  
  
“Well, Joe doesn’t really get ‘pissed.’” Ben hesitated then added, “But he’s not the biggest fan of you right now.”  
  
AJ exhaled. “I don’t blame him.”  
  
“I know you were drunk but--”  
  
“I know, it’s not an excuse,” AJ interjected. “But that was one of the reasons. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been drunk.” He sighed and shifted on his feet, leaning against the wall next to him. “I’ve never done anything with a guy before and I, admittedly, find you attractive.”  
  
It was a simple, honest answer but Ben was still stunned. He stood there holding the folded clothes in his hands, unsure of what to say.  
  
“I like you,” AJ went on. “And not like, like _that_ , not like a teenage girl, but I do think you’re attractive and I was drunk and feeling bold and I made a stupid choice.”  
  
Ben took in AJ’s words for a moment before saying, “I’d never been with a guy until Joe.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. I don’t even like having to consider my ‘sexuality’ now because, well, who cares? I love Joe. That’s all that matters.”  
  
AJ nodded. “Yeah. That’s true.”  
  
“So I’m flattered, AJ, I really am,” Ben said. “And it’s none of my business, but if you ever find yourself wanting to lunge at someone again, at the very least make sure they’re single first.”  
  
AJ laughed. “Good advice.”  
  
“I’m gonna get in costume,” Ben said. “And then we’re gonna put on a great performance.”  
  
“Absolutely,” AJ agreed, extending his hand.  
  
Ben shook it, giving AJ a nod before he commenced getting changed into Kenny’s clothes.  
  
All the work--all the rehearsing in the theater, repeating the same lines and scenes with Joe at home, pacing through the pages alone in cafes and bed and in parks--had finally led up to that Friday night, opening night. Ben took a deep breath as he slipped out of his own clothes and changed into the outfit for Kenny, which was a worn black t-shirt and blue jeans and sneakers. It was an outfit that wasn’t so unlike something Ben would normally wear, but they weren’t his clothes and it wasn’t his life that he was acting out onstage.  
  
Theater was tricky. Ben always felt like theater actors got a bit of a bad rep, or at least everyone knew, and was fine with, them not receiving the same recognition, fame and compensation that film actors got, even when the theater actors became particularly well-verse in their craft and the community. Ben enjoyed the challenge of it, even with it encompassing no one declaring “cut,” no editing, no redos, nothing to mold the performance to make it perfect. He and the other actors only had each other that night and that sentiment had made him wants to mend things with AJ even more.

  
  


Few conscious thoughts ran through Ben’s mind as he went through the play--there wasn’t enough time to really think at all. He was focused and in-character, encapsulated by his role and the roles of the other actors and, thankfully, things were going smoothly. When Ben did glance into the audience, they seemed engaged, staring at all of them onstage in concentration, except for a few squirming children.  
  
Most importantly, however, Ben saw Joe sitting in the second row (he had said that the second row was actually optimal for viewing, plus he was worried about distracting Ben, which Ben had laughed at but also appreciated the consideration. Ben didn’t look at him long enough to observe anything other than a goofy grin on Joe’s face and then, when Book looked during another scene, he saw Joe looking up at the other actors and then he met Ben’s gaze and smiled.  
  
Ben only hoped Joe wasn’t focusing on AJ when he wasn’t focusing on him. Nevertheless, scene 6, which was the scene between Kenny and the character of Ben commenced, which meant Joe had ample opportunity to seethe at AJ.  
  
“‘We’re just embracing our human nature, man--’” Ben said.  
  
“‘But Kenny, those clubs are expensive,’” AJ replied.  
  
They were sitting on the set of steps to emulate sitting on the steps of Ben’s house, holding their empty cans of beer.  
  
“‘We’re just relaxing after a hard week’s work,’” Ben, as Kenny, said.  
  
“‘The drinks alone are like nine bucks. And it’s usually a three-drink minimum. It adds up, and then what?’”  
  
“‘Aw, man. Aw, man is that what this is about? You think it’s irresponsible? For us to have a night out? For me to have a night out?’”  
  
The irony of the scene always struck Joe whenever they had rehearsed it. At least during the actual performance, he couldn’t think about the slight absurdity of it.  
  
“‘No, I didn’t say that. It’s just…it’s just one night…if we take a step back for a second—’” AJ replied, shifting a little on the steps.  
  
Ben had to admit--AJ was doing well despite his admittance to stage fright and he was able to feed off the character of Ben in a way that made himself feel more confident.  
  
“‘Oh god, that fucking book!’” Ben exclaimed.  
  
“‘I have…I have a vision for my life, Kenny.’”  
  
“‘So do I, douchebag.’”  
  
Ben got through the slightly drunken monologue from Kenny with more ease than he had anticipated, the words flowing from his mouth with such fluidity that he really felt like he was buzzed, like he was Kenny, like he really was on the front steps of a suburban house.  
  
In scene 7, the second to last scene, the characters of Kenny and Sharon dance around a fire they created in Mary and Ben’s house and, in the final scene, Kenny’s uncle shows up and reveals that Kenny and Sharon were actually aliases, and Ben and Mary have no real idea of who they even were. Ben and his co-star Caitlin were backstage, blotting the last layer of sweat from their foreheads, the makeup creating a thin layer of tan foundation on their respective paper towels, as AJ, his co-star Melissa and Tom, who played Kenny’s uncle Frank, finished up the play.  
  
It was a rush--Ben wasn’t sure of what to say, but he saw the same look of joy and pride on Caitlin’s face and they smiled at one another and she jostled his shoulder as if to say, “We did it.”  
  
They both went out for their bows and the applause was overwhelming--Ben thought back to filming the Live Aid performance and smiled to himself as he dipped his head down. He imagined Joe in the audience clapping wildly and Ben couldn’t wait to see him and share in the heart-racing exhilaration of it all.  
  
Backstage, the whole group of actors huddled together, high-fiving, jostling, hugging and laughing.  
  
“That was great,” Martha said. “Seriously, you guys were awesome. It was a good performance.”  
  
“Are we all going out?” Melissa asked, pushing her long dark hair back with her fingers.  
  
“Yes, please,” Caitlin said. “God knows we all could use a bit of celebrating.”  
  
“Can we all meet at The Rum House in a bit?” Melissa pressed.  
  
“I’m down,” AJ chimed in and looked at Ben.  
  
“I’ll let you guys know,” Ben answered, glancing at AJ and then back at the group.  
  
“You were amazing, Ben,” Caitlin said.  
  
Ben smiled. “You were too. We all were.”  
  
“Agreed,” AJ said and exhaled. “That was fun. Five more performances to go.”  
  
“We can’t think about that now,” Caitlin said, lightly hitting AJ on the arm. “One show at a time.”

  
  


Ben guzzled an entire bottle of water and subsequently relieved himself and changed his clothes in the restroom before emerging into the theater entrance. The other actors were with their friends and family, being handed flowers. Even AJ was surrounded by people, laughing and gesturing emphatically as they spoke to one another.  
  
Ben then spotted Joe by the front doors, dressed in a suit and tie and holding a single white rose. Ben smiled when he saw him, the smile beginning as a bit of a silent chuckle, then it broke out into a total grin and he laughed audibly, though it was masked by the clamor of everyone else.  
  
“Ben, I can’t even tell you how proud of you I am,” Joe said as Ben approached him.  
  
Ben smiled even more then and reached for Joe’s hand, intertwining their fingers, and Joe then pulled him into a tight embrace, resting the stem of the rose along Ben’s upper back.  
  
“Thank you,” Ben said as they broke away. “Thank you, Joe. When I saw you in the audience it--it just made me melt. Even more than I was already sweating.”  
  
Joe laughed and beamed at him. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Joe extended the rose to Ben like a little kid shyly offering it as if he had plucked it straight from the garden. “I didn’t think you’d want to carry around a whole bouquet of them,” he told Ben. “Besides, flowers aren’t _really_ your style anyway.”  
  
Ben took the rose and traced his thumb over the smooth, waxy stem. “It’s so perfect, Joe,” he said. “Thank you.”  
  
Joe squeezed his hand. “You were incredible, Benny.”  
  
Ben felt himself blush. “You think?”  
  
“Of course. My god, it was so good. All of you. But you especially.”  
  
“It was really fun.”  
  
“Scene 6? Oh my god,” Joe went on. “How many times did even you and I just run through that scene? It was fantastic.”  
  
“I’m so glad it went well,” Ben said. “I was nervous about it.”  
  
Joe looked into Ben’s eyes with such adoration and pride that Ben felt bashful and he dipped his head down to inhale the scent of the rose.  
  
“Everyone’s going out for a drink,” Ben told Joe. “Do you wanna go?” After he asked it he attempted to gauge Joe’s face for a reaction before he actually spoke, but it was hard to read his face then. Ben knew that Joe would support him in whatever way, even if it meant going out for drinks with people he didn’t know, save for one man he wasn’t particularly fond of, but Ben didn’t want him to feel any pressure.  
  
“Let’s do it,” Joe answered. “You deserve to celebrate.”

  
  


The Rum House was apparently a notorious spot for people to go after plays and musicals, being only a couple of blocks away from the theater itself. It seemed as though nearly everyone from the show had flocked there--the dimly lit space was packed by the time Ben and Joe had arrived.  
  
Caitlin spotted them from the bar and waved them over, and Ben and Joe sidled up, with Joe leaning with his elbow on the bar and Ben standing next to him, trying not to invade too much into anyone else’s personal space.  
  
“I wish I could say I’ll buy the first round,” Caitlin said. “But on a struggling actor’s salary? Not a chance. Let me get _you_ two a drink, though.”  
  
“No, no it’s okay,” Joe said before Ben could say anything. “I’ll get Ben’s first drink. It’s my duty as his boyfriend.”  
  
Ben bit back a grin, pressing his tongue against his teeth. It wasn’t often either one of them publicly declared themselves as “boyfriends,” but whenever it happened it made him incredibly giddy.  
  
“Okay, that’s absolutely fair,” Caitlin replied. “And thanks, really, you saved me like 25 dollars.”  
  
Joe chuckled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over the prices of cocktails. The audacity.”  
  
“Tell me about it,” Caitlin said then looked back at Ben. “Melissa, AJ, and Tom are around here somewhere. Tom even tried to get Martha to go but I don’t think she’ll be showing up.”  
  
“I can’t imagine,” Ben replied.  
  
“What do you want?” Joe asked, pulling out his wallet.  
  
“Vodka tonic,” Ben said.  
  
Joe smiled as he took out his card. “Of course, how could I not have known?”  
  
Ben and Joe made their way to the high-top table where the others were sitting after Caitlin was accosted by some other friends. Ben was riddled with nerves as they approached the group, not sure of how Joe would be with AJ. It was a shame really, he thought, considering they had only met each other twice and AJ had tainted what could have been a fulfilling friendship between all three of them. Ben drew a line with his fingertip down the inside of Joe’s wrist as they settled in front of the group, and Joe turned his head to give Ben a reassuring smile.  
  
Ben’s drink sloshed gently in his hand, vodka tonic spilling over onto his fingers, as AJ quickly stood up.  
  
“Can I talk to both of you?” AJ asked Ben and Joe in a hushed tone as he moved away from the table.  
  
Ben looked at Joe, who was still looking at AJ. This seemed like a question for Joe more so than himself.  
  
“Sure,” came Joe’s reply after when Ben felt like was a tense moment.  
  
AJ led them to a corner of the bar, the windows open to the dark street outside. Ben wiped away the liquid from his fingers onto his jeans as inconspicuously as he could, not liking that they were still standing. He didn’t know what to do with his free hand and he felt like they would all feel more at ease if they were sitting down. But the bar was full, and Ben stuck his left hand into his pocket, feeling awkward and exposed.  
  
“I just want to clear the air,” AJ began, also holding a drink in his hand and gesturing with his free one. “And apologize. Ben, I’ve obviously apologized over and over to the point of being obnoxious, I assume, but I’m glad we talked a little before the show.” He shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. “But Joe, I haven’t had the chance to apologize to you.”  
  
Ben knew he couldn’t turn his head completely to really look at Joe, so he veered his head slightly and tried to mostly rely on his peripheral vision. Joe seemed stoic, still looking at AJ dead-on, and that made Ben nervous. Joe wasn’t a confrontational guy, but Ben knew that any form of infidelity, whether perpetuated by his partner or by someone against his unwilling partner, was out of the question.  
  
“I appreciate that,” Joe finally said.  
  
AJ nodded. “Yeah, of course. I really am sorry. It was a dumb choice and it was a mistake.”  
  
Ben felt like a child then, just in the middle of this tense and brief back-and-forth between them, his eyes darting back and forth between the two to discern anything they might have been holding back.  
  
Then Joe sighed and extended his hand to AJ, who looked just as surprised as Ben must have looked, and they shook. Ben sighed himself and brought the drink to his lips, taking down a third of it in one go.  
  
“It’s okay,” Joe said to AJ. “I mean, I really do appreciate the apology. I don’t want Ben to lose a friend like that, so I’m glad you two worked it out.”  
  
“Yeah, me either,” AJ said, offering both Joe and Ben a small smile.  
  
Ben took another sip of his drink. Good, it was all coming together. Still, he wouldn’t know how Joe _really_ felt until they were able to talk together later. But then, Ben just wanted to have a few drinks and enjoy the afterglow of the performance.  
  
“Other than that kiss, going out was pretty fun,” Ben interjected with a mildly uncomfortable chuckle. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, but he just wanted to relieve some of the tension, even if it was tension only he was feeling.  
  
AJ eased him with an earnest laugh. “Yeah, yeah I think so too,” he said. “I was so excited you guys decided to come out.”  
  
“I don’t know if I’ll be doing it again,” Joe said. “For a variety of reasons.” He sipped his drink.  
  
_Oh come on, Joe,_ Ben thought. _I’ll take anything over passive-aggressiveness._  
  
AJ met that with a nervous, forced chuckle. “I hear ya.”  
  
Ben knew if he got flat-out drunk he would ruin his own night and he didn’t want Joe to think he was needing to get sauced just to get through the evening, so he sipped the rest of his vodka tonic and sipped the next one, even deciding to pick at the various appetizers the rest of the group had ordered. Even while biting into a piece of battered and fried spicy cauliflower, his eyes wandered to Joe, who was easily mingling with Caitlin and her friends, and then to AJ who was talking idly with Tom.  
  
AJ met his gaze and moved back to Ben, standing next to him at the high-top. “I can tell Joe is still feeling a little, uh, salty about what happened,” he said. “And that’s fair.”  
  
Ben could tell AJ had hit those whiskey sours a little hard, with his hands awkwardly in his pockets and his face slightly flushed.  
  
“He’ll come around,” Ben replied, though he wasn’t sure if that was true. “We’re still friends. He’ll see more of you.” He took a sip of his drink before adding, “And that will _never_ happen again, drunk or not.”  
  
AJ held up his right hand. “You have my word.”

  


After everyone wrapped up and downed the rest of their drinks, Ben settled comfortably in the passenger seat of Joe’s car, a nice change from the incessant subway rides and ubers that had become so integral to his new life, and rolled the window down halfway, letting the air flow over him as Joe pulled away.  
  
“You alright?” Ben asked, turning to look at Joe.  
  
“Yeah,” Joe answered. “I guess I might’ve still seemed a little cold to AJ. But I’m alright, honestly.”  
  
Ben considered that. “Okay.”  
  
Joe turned and glanced at Ben before looking back at the road. “I’m really glad you guys are friends,” he said. “I get a little jealous and insecure, obviously. But I’m glad you’re friends.”  
  
“Thanks,” Ben said and smiled to himself, looking out the window at the streetlamps and pedestrians. “And I know you will always have certain insecurities, but all I can hope for is that you don’t feel so insecure around _me_.”  
  
Joe sighed and reached over to squeeze Ben’s knee. “You make me feel so much better,” he said. “About everything.”  
  
Ben held Joe’s hand in his, extending it up and kissing Joe’s fingers. “I feel the same about you,” he said. “I’m so glad you came tonight, to all of it.”  
  
“Me too,” Joe said, and Ben knew he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ben made it through opening night (and I am so proud of him) and AJ was able to (sort of) make amends with Ben and Joe. Do you think Joe will ever want to hang out with him again? I can't say I blame him for still being so cold--if I were dating Ben and someone made a move on him...well...


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went out the other night and "I've Been Waiting" was playing at the bar. I can't even tell you how excited I got.  
> After I began writing this chapter I really debated posting it, but my mind has been in the gutter even more so than usual and I figured most of you wouldn't mind ;)

When Joe woke up the morning after opening night, Ben was still sleeping soundly beside him, his face buried in the crevice between the two pillows, both arms underneath one of the pillows and one leg dangling off the bed. Joe sighed as his eyes adjusted to the morning light and he tried to recall his dreams but could only remember tiny fractions and nonsense images. He rolled over onto his back and looked at the ceiling before looking back at Ben, listening to his deep, steady breathing and watching his back rise and fall with each breath.  
  
He was going to be awake no matter what, so Joe got up and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash water on his face. With droplets still clinging to the tiny bit of stubble that had accumulated, he stared at himself in the mirror.  
  
Joe didn’t dislike the way he looked, at least not most of the time, but for his whole life he had often felt somewhat inadequate. When he was a teenager he had felt too gangly and awkward. As a young adult, he had felt similarly but had managed to come into his own more, slowly discovering his own personal style which made him feel better. Plus he had been able to grow the tiny bit of stubble, the acne had subsided, he could do more push-ups. But as man in his mid-thirties, he saw the effects of aging--he had more visible lines around his eyes, his laugh lines had become deeper, the stubble was rougher, and he was more doughy in the middle than he would have liked (he had doughnuts and beer to blame for that).  
  
Insecurities were normal, Joe knew that. Everyone was insecure. Ben made him feel better--even with all the other people Joe had been with, Ben was always eager for him, always hungry. Hungrier than anyone else. Whenever Joe kissed him, Ben leaned into it immediately, and Joe could simply glance over at him and Ben would be eyeing him, occasionally biting his lip. Then Ben would look down instantly, blushing, but look back up and smile and Joe knew that he was madly in love with him. It made him feel incredible, like some sort of deity. Yet when he looked in the mirror, all notions of that disappeared as Joe questioned _why_ Ben would look at him like that.  
  
It didn’t matter though, because Joe was just as hungry for Ben and, if he could, he would spend every minute of the day ravaging him. He had even become a little more accustomed to the phrase “making love,” because that’s what he did with Ben. No one else.  
  
Joe dabbed his face dry with a hand towel and returned to the bedroom to grab his phone. Ben murmured quietly and stirred from his position, nestling his face further into the mattress before rolling over onto his side and stretching out his legs, the leg that had been hanging over the mattress then tangled in the sheets.  
  
He half-opened his eyes while Joe was retrieving his phone. “Morning,” Ben yawned out while stretching again.  
  
“Good morning,” Joe replied. Even upon waking Ben looked better than any other person on the planet, even with his impossibly tousled blonde hair, an imprint of the folded pillowcase on his cheek, and eyebrows totally amiss, the hairs sticking up awkwardly.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Nothin’. What do you want for breakfast?”  
  
Ben closed his eyes, nuzzling the pillow, and chuckled. “You.”  
  
Joe rolled his eyes but also laughed to himself.  
  
“Oh, what? _You_ get to go on about morning wood all the time but _I_ can’t?”  
  
Joe chuckled again. “When do I ever do that?”  
  
“You do it.”  
  
“Okay, Benny.”  
  
Ben looked at Joe and stretched out on the bed, extending one arm flat out on the mattress and extending the other one to Joe. “Come here,” he said, the sleepy, pouty expression a sure-fire way to lure Joe in, and Ben knew it.  
  
“Alright, you win,” Joe replied and got back in bed. As he cozied himself into the mattress, Ben rolled over, facing away, and Joe sidled up behind him, pulling the blankets over both of them. “Little spoon again, huh?”  
  
Ben’s sleepy giggle was muffled by his arm. “Always.”  
  
Joe pressed himself closer into Ben, his hips against Ben’s lower back, and wrapped his arm around his chest. “You slept like a rock,” he remarked.  
  
“I was out so fast,” Ben said. “I was really tired.”  
  
Joe kissed the back of Ben’s neck, taking in the scent of his skin and the lingering fragrance of his shampoo. “Yeah, you must’ve been. You ready for tonight?”  
  
Ben groaned quietly. “Yes, but let me enjoy this,” he answered and pushed back against Joe, grinding his ass into his crotch.  
  
Joe should have known the spooning would commence into more but the contact still gleefully surprised him, although he always liked to play it cool at first, letting Ben think he was unphased by him. But Joe was always frenzied whenever Ben started to tease and he resisted the urge to grind right back into him.  
  
Instead, he wrapped his arm tighter around Ben and caressed his chest through his shirt for a moment, running his palm over the firm pecs. “So, what do you want for breakfast?” Joe asked again.  
  
Ben rubbed back up against Joe again, the thin fabric of his boxers stroking Joe’s pajama pants. “I already told you,” he said and reached to grab Joe’s forearm, pulling him closer.  
  
“Uh-huh, right,” Joe replied but he kissed the back of Ben’s neck again anyway and inched his hand up under his shirt, which made Ben moan very quietly and grip Joe’s forearm through the fabric.  
  
Joe could feel goosebumps under his fingers, and he hooked his free arm around Ben’s neck gently. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but if meant titillating his sleepy boyfriend, he would power through it. He slipped his other hand down and past Ben’s boxers, the tips of his fingers just grazing Ben’s pubic hair. Ben whimpered quietly and backed into Joe again.  
  
“You want me to keep going?” Joe asked, his mouth against Ben’s ear.  
  
“Of course,” Ben said, eyes closed.  
  
Joe gently bit down on Ben’s earlobe and let his hand travel further down to Ben’s crotch as he gripped his throat with his fingers. He had Ben’s morning wood to thank more than anything, but he still felt him twitch and shudder under his hand.  
  
“You like it?” Joe asked, not needing an answer, but Ben nodded. Joe slid his hand out from under Ben’s boxers and spat into it before returning it back to its place between Ben’s legs. Ben released a quiet, high-pitched moan from his throat and bucked once into Joe’s hand.  
  
Ben’s moan turned into a husky laugh. “Just what I needed,” he said and reached his arm behind him to tangle his fingers in Joe’s hair.  
  
Joe smirked against Ben’s neck, biting the skin just below his jaw and kissing the bite, as he kept working him under his boxers and under the blankets, and it didn’t take long before Ben bucked into his hand and pulled on his hair, biting his lip as he moaned again.  
  
“I can feel it,” Joe remarked, smirking again.  
  
Ben’s hand frantically shifted from Joe’s hair to the back of his neck, his grip tight, still bucking slightly into Joe’s hand. The heat of Joe’s body against Ben’s had dampened both of their shirts as they were pressed together, and as much as he wanted to tear the blankets off the two of them, Joe didn’t want to disturb the moment.  
  
“Fuck--Joe, please--” Ben begged, letting his face rest against his own arm against the bed, eyes closed.  
  
“That’s it, baby,” Joe said softly. “Give it to me.”  
  
Ben dug his nails into the back of Joe’s neck and moaned into his arm, Joe continuing with slightly faster movements, the elastic band of the boxers pressing against his wrist as he held Ben’s throat in his other hand. He could feel Ben’s Adam’s apple under his palm with each moan and he writhed into Joe as he came, grappling at Joe’s shoulder behind him and biting his lip as he whimpered before exhaling a simple, “Fuck.”  
  
Joe kept his hand on Ben but slowed down, gently stroking him. Ben’s grip on him loosened and he sighed before rolling over onto his back.  
  
“Is that better?” Joe asked, sitting up and pulling the blankets away from both of them, gazing over Ben’s body as his chest continued to rise and fall. He took his hand out from Ben’s boxers, leaving a damp, dark patch in the fabric, then laid his head on Ben’s abdomen.  
  
“Yeah,” Ben breathed, running his fingers through Joe’s hair. “So much better.” He laughed.  
  
Joe looked up at him. “So glad I could help.”  
  
Ben stretched with a groan. “I have to get up now,” he said, although he was still absentmindedly playing with Joe’s hair. “I have to shower.”  
  
“Or we could stay in bed the entire day. Well, maybe after you shower and I wash my hands.”  
  
“As tempting as that is, I have to both physically and mentally prepare myself for the show tonight.” Ben gently shimmied out from under Joe and stood up.  
  
“You sure you’re alright with me not going?” Joe asked.  
  
“Yeah, it’s alright, Joe. You’ve got the dinner thing, right?” Ben replied. “Besides, there’s still five performances left.”  
  
“Yup, I have that dinner thing,” Joe answered, yawning. “And that’s true. You know I’ll be there for the final performance.”  
  
Ben smiled at him as he leaned in the doorway. “I know.”

  
  


Joe did have a dinner that evening, a dinner with his friend Brady who had recently volunteered to partially fund Joe’s work-in-progress. Despite Brady being a friend, Joe was nervous about it--money complicated things, and although Brady would get all due credit plus a minor role in the film if he wanted, Joe knew that it was still money.  
  
Joe had felt bad keeping Ben in the dark about so many things. It had surpassed insecurity about Ben’s perception of him as a writer and director and veered into being so mentally preoccupied by so many things that he often couldn’t pick a straight line of information to relay to Ben. Still, Ben would sit on the couch and read or scroll through photos he had taken as Joe sat at his desk nearby, typing away or staring at Excel spreadsheets. Eventually Joe would need to break away, which was when he would sit down next to Ben and lay his arm over his shoulder and reach his fingers up to play with his hair or trace the curves of Ben’s ear.  
  
He and Brady were meeting at a diner so thankfully that relieved some pressure in and of itself--no dim lighting, no thick menus with their curved, inky typography spelling out overpriced plates, no sparkling water. Comfort. That’s what Joe needed, it was comfort, and what was more comfortable than a diner?  
  
The maroon booth was slightly sticky as Joe slid in and the whole place smelled like coffee and pancakes, despite it being well into the evening. It stirred a craving within Joe though, and he immediately asked for a cup of decaf, which came steaming on a saucer, and he poured a single half-and-half into it and gave it a stir with the tarnished spoon.  
  
He was pulling out his tablet and notebook when Brady walked in and slid into the seat across from Joe. His face was scruffy with the beginnings of a dark beard and his eyes regarded Joe with warm familiarity.  
  
“Hey,” Brady said. “Sorry, have you been waiting long?”  
  
“No, I just got here,” Joe said. “Thanks for coming. Not like our usual diner dinners, is it?”  
  
Brady chuckled. “A business meeting now,” he said. “I’m glad though, seriously. I’m glad to be helping out. I like the screenplay a lot.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“Have you let Ben read it yet?”  
  
Joe sighed. “Some of it.”  
  
“Come on, Joe. He’s your man,” Brady replied, and smiled at their waitress as she placed two plastic Coca Cola cups of ice water in front of them.  
  
They ordered, with Joe getting a turkey club and Brady getting the deluxe cheeseburger, which Joe thought was a bold move--he loved this diner but he never trusted red meat at _any_ diner--and then Joe flipped the protector up over his tablet. They needed to go over the financial aspects in detail plus Brady was the person who had an in with the owners of the cabin Joe was thinking of staying in upstate while filming.  
  
It was mostly dull work although broken by anecdotal stories from their friendship, Joe being reminded of things he had to tell Brady, whether it be business-related or not, and Brady continuing to steal Joe’s fries, despite having his own. Brady agreed to give Joe a decent chunk of change, alleviating the pressure of Joe having to financially fund the whole thing himself--not that he couldn’t make it work, but it wouldn’t have left him much breathing room. Brady took Joe up on the offer of a role in the movie, and then there was the discussion of the cabin.  
  
“I feel like,” Brady began, sneaking another one of Joe’s fries. “If you want Ben to stay upstate with you, you have to let him read the screenplay.”  
  
“Oh, obviously,” Joe replied. “He’s gonna read it. But I also don’t know if he’d even _want_ to stay there.”  
  
Brady cocked his head. “Why?”  
  
“Well, I mean, he would, but he’s starting to get into the flow of things finally,” Joe explained. “He’s got the play now, he’s been drumming, he’s building friendships. I’m sure when we actually get to filming, he’ll have new projects.”  
  
“Yeah, probably. But you’re going to ask him, right?”  
  
“Of course. I’d love for him to stay for at least part of the time.” Joe took the final sip from his second cup of decaf. “It would be tougher since he doesn’t have a car and I would need to bring mine. It’s not like he could just drive up there.”  
  
“Train?”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
“So you guys are doing well, I take it?”  
  
Joe couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re doing great.”  
  
“God, I haven’t seen you this giddy over someone in forever,” Brady replied with a chuckle.  
  
Joe almost felt compelled to spew poetry just then, poetry about how beautiful Ben was and how madly in love with him Joe was, how his heart had been stolen by him and how he thought of him constantly, but he reeled in the sappy romantic part of himself and responded with, “I love him.”  
  
“You really do, don’t you?” Brady replied with a sigh, looking at Joe as he leaned back in the booth as if he were studying him. Then he clicked his tongue and returned to his plate. “It’s amazing, honestly.”  
  
Joe laughed. “Why?"  
  
“Not in a bad way or anything, it’s just amazing how absolutely smitten you are.”  
  
“It’s true. I am indeed smitten.” Joe picked up another triangle of turkey club in his hand. “And last I heard, you were dating Kiersten, yet I haven’t heard anything about that as of late.”  
  
Brady sighed and leaned back again, resting his arms atop the back of the booth on either side of him. “We’re still dating and--what, it’s been like 4 months?--but things aren’t going that great,” he confessed. “That’s like, the same amount of time you and Ben have been together, right?”  
  
“Yeah, just about,” Joe answered. “What’s going on with you two?”  
  
“Nothing big, I think our honeymoon phase ended and we realized how incompatible we truly are.”  
  
“Jeez. How do you mean?”  
  
“Well, Kiersten _really_ hates going out,” Brady said. “And I don’t mean just hates bars, like she hates leaving the house for just about anything. Which wasn’t as bad when we first started dating, but now it’s like, I always have to go to _her_ apartment since she doesn’t want to come to mine, and it’s like, a chore even getting her to go out to eat.”  
  
“Wow,” Joe replied. “Quite the homebody.”  
  
Brady groaned. “I’m 35, Joe,” he said. “I guess I’m more inclined to ‘settle down’ more than I ever was before, but not to that extreme. But I feel like I’m getting too old to date around like I used to.”  
  
“We’re not old,” Joe protested. “And if you want to date other people, go for it. I think you’re a catch.”  
  
Brady smiled. “I’m taking that to heart.”  
  
“Please do," Joe said, smiling back.  
  
During the short walk back to his apartment, Joe was struck with the statement that Brady had made about his own relationship: the honeymoon phase had ended. Joe knew that was a thing, he’d experienced it with people in the past, but the thought of it with regards to Ben hadn’t occurred to him until Brady mentioned it.  
  
As he adjusted the weight of his backpack on his shoulders, Joe thought about how, if the honeymoon phase was what he and Ben were in, he didn’t want it to end. That made him anxious--he had no doubts about he and Ben staying together, but the thought of such a drastic emotional change, even sexual, perhaps, caused a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, but not the nice ones. Then again, Joe felt like the entirety of their friendship had been a honeymoon phase to the point that he then had to question if maybe that was just them.  
  
_Maybe I really do believe in soulmates,_ Joe thought as he reached the door to his building, an image of him and Ben lying in bed together still in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry you guys had to wait so long for such a short chapter. I feel like I apologize at every turn now. I wish I could just post like, tweets here to let you know that YES I am still writing it, just apparently at a much slower pace now. But I have not forgotten our boys, believe me.  
> <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday, my friends! Every time I use ellipsis in dialogue I remember when one of my writing professors told me to never use them that way.  
> Plenty of fluff this time around. Hope you enjoy<3

Before Ben knew it, it was nearly July and Brooklyn was hot and sticky everywhere he went. Walking through the streets, he felt his own sweat cling to the inside of his thighs and in his armpits and, by the time he had reached his destination, there was a damp, dark stain under both his arms and a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and upper lip. Even sitting in the park, Ben felt sweat dampen his body as he sat in the trimmed grass or maneuvered his limbs in different angles to get just the right photo. He hadn’t expected it to be so hot--muggy, even--and he did miss the classic English summer rains that he had lived with for so long.  
  
On the hot nights by himself, Ben would get a tallboy and walk around with it in hand, still slightly wary of New York state’s open container laws but not wary enough to stop himself from doing it. The heat made him feel lazy and laziness basically demanded cheap beer. He’d make his way back to the loft and sit out, smoking and sipping the beer, and gaze out at the skyline and down at the comings and goings of people below. After finishing the tallboy and at least two leisurely cigarettes, Ben would brush his teeth, splash water on his face and then get into his bed with the windows open and fan blowing. The white noise mingled with the outside noises like a wonky, slightly jarring song that he had finally, sort of, gotten used to.  
  
He had cause for celebration amidst all the heat because Ben had completed all of the performances of _Detroit_. It had been a bit of a whirlwind--a stressful, fun, hectic whirlwind and Ben knew he would never forget it. The weeks and weeks of rehearsals and performances had allowed him to create bonds with the other cast members and their nights of drinks and casual, hurried dinners together had made Ben feel like he belonged.  
  
But that night, the final performance being on a Saturday, Ben owed his allegiance to Joe, his doting, loving and incredibly supportive partner who had read all those lines with him, rubbed the tension out of his muscles, and always gave in to being the big spoon. Ben wanted to do something special for Joe, but Joe appreciated thoughtfulness over grand gestures and, considering the hazy heat, Ben settled on something simple and very classic-American: going out for ice cream.

  
  


Moonlight Creamery was almost like a hole-in-the-wall type place that Ben and Joe had to reach by walking through a slightly ominous underground cement tunnel and then up the sidewalk above, but when they did they found a beautiful cobblestone building with the sign poking out from the side that stated the name in swirly silver letters, and evidence of probably beautiful apartments atop it. Ben thought it almost looked magical, with the blue evening light and smattering of glowing lamp posts all surrounding the cottage-like place.  
  
“This is adorable,” Joe commented as they studied the small interior, all slate grey paint, pastel accents and the smell of coffee filling the air. He leaned down and peered into the glass case of chocolate truffles. “How’d you find this place?”  
  
“Caitlin told me about it,” Ben told him.  
  
“Good find,” Joe replied, standing back up and meandering over to the other display of buckets of ice cream. “Seriously.”  
  
Ben smiled. “I’m glad you think so. I know it’s not doughnuts, but…”  
  
Joe laughed. “No, no, this is very appropriate. I love it.”  
  
Ben scanned over all the different flavors--coconut sorbet, honey lavender, birthday cake, blackberry, chile chocolate, maple bacon, green tea, mango, French vanilla, dark chocolate, coffee, gingerbread, mint--and couldn’t even discern what he wanted most. He looked up at the black chalkboard menus and saw the list of coffee drinks he could choose from and felt even more divided.  
  
“What are you getting?” Ben asked Joe.  
  
“I’m not sure. Maybe the dark chocolate? Or the mint.”  
  
A tall, lanky young man with one airpod in his ear emerged from what must have been the back room. “Hey guys, how are you?” he asked, smiling at them from behind the counter.  
  
“Good, how are you?” Joe and Ben replied in unison.  
  
“Good, good. Know what you’d like?”  
  
“There are so many options,” Joe remarked.  
  
The man chuckled. “There are, for sure. I can always give you guys samples.”  
  
Joe hummed softly as he looked back down. “Can I try the chile chocolate?” he asked.  
  
“For sure,” the man replied. “Although I’ll warn you, it’s surprisingly hot.”  
  
“I’m sure I can handle it,” Joe replied with a smirk and took the spoon from him, scraping away half with his tongue. “Oh wow. It really hits you at the end. Ben, try it.”  
  
As Ben took the spoon from Joe, the man said, “Oh, I can get you another spoon if you want.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Ben said and put the remainder of the ice cream in his mouth. It did just taste like a rich chocolate at first but, as it melted and dissipated, the heat of the chile warmed his tongue. “That is really hot. I don’t know if I would want a full cone of that.”  
  
The man laughed. “Yeah, it’s good but I hear where you’re coming from. It's sneaky.”  
  
“I think I know. I think I’ll do the mint,” Joe said. “In a cone, please.”  
  
“Waffle or sugar?”  
  
“Waffle.”  
  
“Good choice,” the man replied and started to scoop out the ice cream. “We make those in-house too.”  
  
Ben got the blackberry in a waffle cone and he and Joe made their way back outside, sitting at a small iron table topped with an umbrella. The lavender colored ice cream was already melting past the cone and onto Ben’s fingers, and he licked it away quickly, his tongue sliding up his own skin back to the ice cream itself--it was good. Really good, actually. He wasn’t too big on sweets but the tart blackberry cut by the sweet, sugary cream was hitting the spot for him on such a hot night.  
  
“I could’ve paid,” Joe said, licking his own glob of pastel green ice cream. “To treat you for an incredible six performances.”  
  
“No, seriously Joe. I owe you for being so supportive the whole time. With everything,” he added, thinking of the whole AJ debacle.  
  
“Well, I’m glad you feel I supported you,” Joe said with a smile. “You’ve done such amazing work. I’m so proud of you.”  
  
“Thanks, Joe,” Ben replied quietly, blushing. “That means so much to me. So have you, with your movie. I can’t wait to read the rest of it.”  
  
“The finishing touches are just about done,” Joe said. “Would you want to read it tonight?”  
  
Ben felt his own face light up. “Yeah, I would love that.”  
  
Joe seemed to be beaming too. “Awesome.”  
  
“How did it go with Brady?”  
  
“Good, good. He’s taking me up on the offer of a minor role for him in the movie.”  
  
Ben laughed. “Good, that’ll be fun.”  
  
“He’s very into it.”  
  
“And you’re still planning on filming in--upstate?”  
  
Joe nodded. “Yeah. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”  
  
Ben paused, holding the ice cream cone in his hand, elbow resting on the table, and felt his stomach turn into a knot. It didn’t matter how much he trusted Joe, hearing those words always managed to fill him with dread. Joe had also left so much to be desired with his whole movie process that Ben had no idea what to expect. He shifted, trying to look calmer than he felt.  
  
“We’re still filming it up there,” Joe began. “Brady got it all set up with the owners of the cabin--well, cabin _s_ \--so I’ll be there, he’ll be there, plus the rest of the cast and the few other people I got to help.”  
  
“Right,” Ben said, still unsure of where this was headed.  
  
“It’s really on a roll now,” Joe went on. “So I’m heading up there the first week of September.”  
  
It was soon, Ben realized, especially with how quickly time had been flying while he had been in New York and with Joe. He had been so in the dark with it all that he felt a little blindsided, or maybe, he thought, the issue was that he just hadn’t had the opportunity to think of the whole escapade much at all.  
  
“Wow,” Ben replied. “So soon.”  
  
“I know,” Joe agreed. “Very soon. And listen, I want you up there, especially considering it’ll be a while, like, I’m guessing a month, maybe a month and a half, but I understand if you want to stay here. You’ve got a lot going on.”  
  
A myriad of thoughts swam through Ben’s head: if he went, he could be with Joe, of course, which was great, but that meant disrupting his life (again) in the city. No more acting gigs, no more plays--not that he felt he would get a ton of opportunities in a single month, but what if something came up before that? He would have to take the timing into consideration.  
  
Beyond the issue of work, Ben had finally started to get to know Brooklyn. He knew how to navigate place to place a little better, he knew which restaurants he liked, he knew some of the other people in the neighborhood--it had all started to come together. It felt like too soon to be away for a month or more. He wanted to be with Joe. He could imagine them waking up early, the sun coming in through the windows and shining on the wood interior; Joe making coffee in an old Mr. Coffee; lush greenery surrounding them and the quiet woods; the two of them sleeping together as crickets chirped outside.  
  
But didn’t absence make the heart grow fonder?  
  
“I think I’ll stay,” Ben finally said and, in an effort to keep even more melted ice cream from going over his hand, grabbed an extra napkin from the table and wrapped it around the cone. “If that’s okay with you.”  
  
Joe hesitated for a brief moment then said, “Yeah, of course.”  
  
“You hesitated,” Ben noted with a chuckle, partially from nerves, which he hoped Joe didn’t notice.  
  
“Believe me, I want you to be there,” Joe explained. “I’m surprised you made the decision so quickly, I guess, but--” He paused. “I’m trying to explain this right: I think it’s great you’re willing to hang back. You’ve grown a lot here.” He tilted his head and smiled. “I’ll just miss you, that’s all.”  
  
Ben smiled back. “Is there a train I can take?”  
  
“I think so, but I’ll double check.”  
  
“See? So I’ll see you.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“And we still have two months here together.”  
  
“That’s right,” Joe replied, his smile growing. “Which is another thing I wanted to talk to you about.”  
  
“Oh?” Now Ben was intrigued.  
  
Joe went for his ice cream again, pastel green lightly coating his lips before he licked it away. “Yeah, so, I was thinking about you and I taking a vacation,” he said. “Like, a real vacation.”  
  
“Okay...”  
  
“And, being that it’s summer, I thought we could go somewhere with nice beaches, ya know, blue water, blue skies--”  
  
“Come on, Joe, out with it.”  
  
Joe laughed. “Okay, alright--what about going to Greece?”  
  
“Greece?”  
  
“Greece,” Joe repeated. “Santorini, specially.”  
  
Ben cocked his head and looked aside, pontificating it, until he felt the ice cream soak through the napkin and into his hand. “Santorini?” he mused and went back to the ice cream. “It looks really nice there. Very blue.”  
  
“Would you want to go? We could go somewhere else.”  
  
“No, that sounds amazing, really. I wasn’t expecting this at all.”  
  
“Well, we went and saw Rami in LA, but we didn’t have a ton of time to enjoy ourselves. Especially considering my food poisoning,” Joe said. “Plus LA isn’t exactly either one of our ideal vacation spots.”  
  
“Still a great time, but yeah,” Ben replied, chuckling. “Not the ideal vacation, no. I love the idea of Santorini.”  
  
“Great, I think it’ll be amazing,” Joe said. “Very, very hot, and we’re both going to have to absolutely douse ourselves in sunscreen, but it does look really beautiful there.”  
  
“When should we go?”  
  
“I was thinking like, soon,” Joe said, biting his lip and looking at Ben as if he expected that idea to be dashed away.  
  
“Like, how soon?”  
  
“Well, I already found an airbnb. It’s just a matter of claiming it and buying the plane tickets.”  
  
Ben thought for a moment. “What about in two weeks? Would that be too soon?”  
  
Joe laughed. “No, not too soon at all. I love the spontaneity.”  
  
It was all sinking in then--Joe’s final steps with his movie, being away from one another, Ben’s chapter of performances being over, a vacation in Greece--and Ben bit into the edge of the waffle cone in a daze. His first summer in New York. His first trip to Greece. He felt like things were, again, thankfully falling into place.  
  
“I’m excited,” Joe said, snapping Ben out of his daze. “Really excited.”  
  
Ben smiled. “Me too.”  
  
Joe gazed at Ben and sighed. “God, I can’t wait.”  
  
Ben felt himself blush. “Just think, Joe--sandy beaches, blue skies, warm water,” he said.  
  
“And you in the foreground of all of those things,” Joe replied and sighed again. “I can’t wait.”  
  
  


Joe was already complaining of a stomach ache as he and Ben headed back to Joe’s apartment, so before they made it there they stopped inside a corner store, and Ben grabbed a bottle of ginger ale and a bottle of coconut water.  
  
“It’s funny that you know all the things that help stomach aches,” Joe remarked as he leaned against the counter while Ben paid.  
  
“You get enough of them, it’s forced me to learn,” Ben replied. “Will you ever learn to not eat dairy? Or take your Lactaid?”  
  
“That’s all hearsay,” Joe said, waving Ben away. "Besides, you're the one who suggested ice cream."  
  
Back at the apartment, Joe dutifully sipped the coconut water from the bottle as he pulled a stack of papers from his desk and handed it to Ben as they sat down on the couch.  
  
“The script?” Ben asked, glancing at the title page: _Saturday in the Park_ was typed in big, bold letters.  
  
“Final title,” Joe replied. “I guess, anyway. What do you think?”  
  
“Like the Chicago song?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“It fits. Because the party is in a park on a Saturday, right?”  
  
“Yeah. Do you think it’s like, _too_ convenient?”  
  
“No, no, I think it’s good,” Ben said, looking down at the page again. “I think it’s clever. I’m so stoked you’re actually letting me read the whole thing.”  
  
Joe leaned into him. “I know, I’m sorry. I was just nervous,” he said. “Like I told you before, your opinion means more to me than anyone else’s. It matters to me that you like this.”  
  
“I like what I’ve read so far,” Ben assured him. “And I’m proud of you for doing this, I really am. You’ve been working so hard and I can’t wait to actually see the film.”  
  
Joe smiled. “It’s had its challenges, for sure. Always helps to know you believe in me.”  
  
Ben kissed Joe’s forehead. “Of course I do.”  
  
As Joe nuzzled into him and eventually dozed off, his head resting against Ben’s stomach and his cheek pressed against his thigh, Ben read the entire script. When he chuckled at various points, Joe stirred, and Ben wondered why Joe would ever doubt his adoration of both Joe himself and his work.  
  
He made it through about halfway before he felt himself dozing off too, his eyes threatening to close against the pages, images of Greece’s blue skies and shimmering waters flashing behind his eyelids, and Ben managed to gently wake Joe to bring him to bed, where he nuzzled against Ben all over again, wrapping his arm around his waist and using him as a sort of pillow.  
  
Ben couldn’t think of a better place to me, except maybe Greece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my lovely readers brought up writing about Ben and Joe vacationing as they did IRL (and I cherish those instagram posts with my whole heart) but I thought about how over the romanticizing of LA I am and thought about what could also be amazing...so why not Greece? I think they'll have a lovely time.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I believe in soulmates, but I sure as **h e c k** believe in Hardzello.

“Your flight is tomorrow?” Gwil asked from the phone, his disembodied voice feeling so far away from Ben. He missed Gwil and Rami a lot, so much so that sometime he would just sigh wistfully while thinking about them romping around in LA and London, and he wished that it was more feasible, plus more environmentally friendly, for them to all get together more often. As Ben sat outside his loft and smoked, listening to Gwil’s voice, he thought about all of them taking a trip together, or at least meeting somewhere, sometime after his own return from Greece.  
  
“Yeah, tomorrow,” Ben replied and exhaled smoke into the still, warm air.  
  
“It came up so fast.”  
  
“It did. It all happened so fast, really.”  
  
“What’s the airbnb like?”  
  
“It’s really cool, very typical all-white exterior, that classic Greek look, I suppose,” Ben explained. “It’s right by the beach but it’s also like, high enough up on the island that the actual view of the sea is really open. It’s a good size too, at least for two people. I feel like we won’t be at each other’s throats.”  
  
Gwil laughed. “That’s right, this is your first real trip together, and it’s for a week, right?”  
  
“A whole week.”  
  
“That’s good. It’s a good amount of time to experience it.”  
  
“Joe’s planning everything out, but I imagine when we’re actually there he’ll second guess his own plans,” Ben said with a chuckle. “And he’ll want to do everything at once.”  
  
“So what do you _you_ want to do?”  
  
“The beaches, mate, the beaches. There’s also the Santorini Brewing Company.”  
  
“That would be amazing.”  
  
“Yeah, I think so.” Ben sighed and took a drag. “I’m excited. For all of it. Even the 13 hour flight.”  
  
“Damn.”  
  
Ben laughed. “Right?”  
  
“So when are you gonna come back to London and see me?” Gwil asked, and Ben could hear the smile in his voice.  
  
“I want to,” Ben told him. “Soon.”  
  
“I’d like that. I miss you, Big Ben.”  
  
Ben chuckled as he inhaled. “I miss you too.”  
  
There was a pause and then Gwil asked, “You still haven’t really told your family about Joe, have you?”  
  
“I mean,” Ben started to say, slumping forward in the chair, sliding his hand with the cigarette through the slats of the railing. He knew what Gwil and Rami thought of him keeping it a secret, and he _did_ feel bad about it. He never wanted Joe to feel like he had to be a secret and he wanted to be one of those people that was so sure of themselves that they didn't care what other people thought. Unfortunately for Ben, it wasn't that simple.  
  
“Not really, no," Ben answered. "And Joe knows that. It’s like...I’m not close with them, you know?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Ben pondered his own words. “I guess since we’re _not_ close I should feel more inclined to be open with them,” he said. “But I don’t.”  
  
“Everyone wants their parents’ approval.”  
  
“Right.” Ben sighed. “I’m sure that’s part of it. Just--just acceptance. They never even really liked my ex, who was a woman, which I didn’t understand. I know they’re proud of me but sometimes--” He trailed off and took another drag.  
  
“I’m sure they are proud of you,” Gwil said. “But I hear you. It’s not an easy thing to bring up, especially considering the emotional distance already in place.”  
  
“Yeah.” Ben laughed. “But who couldn’t love Joe? I mean, come on.”  
  
Gwil laughed too. “I feel like Joe is the mother’s dream. Courteous, respectful, hard-working, funny. Adorable, honestly.”  
  
“I agree. He’s definitely the full package.”  
  
“And then you’ve got Bad Boy Ben,” Gwil quipped.  
  
“ _Please,_ I’m very well behaved,” Ben replied.  
  
“When you’re not monkeying around, sure.”  
  
Ben laughed. “Listen, Joe’s mom apparently adores me, so I’m set.”  
  
“Fair enough, that’s what matters.”  
  
Ben was sad to even wrap up the phone call with Gwil but he knew he wanted to make plans to see him for certain. It had been too long, far too long, and Ben missed him and missed London entirely. He adored London--he always had. 

  
  


The plane ride had been very long--very long and a little warm and a little irritating, with the sounds from the other passengers eventually grating on Ben, so thankfully Joe was content with both of them listening to their own music, with Ben trying to read and Joe presumably working on his tablet. Finally Ben managed to feel more centered, being able to concentrate on the pages of the book, and the noises and images from within the plane dissipated.  
  
Then finally they were landing and the view of the sea beyond the plane was clearer, the waters deep blue and shimmering in the sun, and the anticipation of getting off the plane, out of the airport and into an entirely new place fizzed in Ben’s gut.  
  
“Wow,” Joe said when they stepped outside. “Greece. We made it.”  
  
The air was so warm but a calm breeze washed over them and Ben’s spine tingled with excitement, the excitement building as he and Joe got a taxi to pick up the rental car, and finally they were pulling up in front of the airbnb. It was stunning to Ben, all smooth, white-washed stone with a cobalt blue door, and the description online had been astute: the sea was in view, only an arm’s length away from Ben’s perception, and he could see the white sand and umbrellas dotting along it.  
  
“This is so cool,” Ben remarked, standing at the edge of the dip outside of the house that overlooked the parts of the island beneath them, all leading to that ocean that was so enticing to Ben.  
  
He had spent a decent amount of time on the ocean in England as a kid and as a teenager, his family taking trips to the River Thames and Canvey Island. Looking at the sea then, the _Mediterranean Sea_ , filled Ben with both nostalgia and wonder. It was magical, sort of exotic, and he had never been anywhere at all like Santorini before.  
  
“It really is incredible,” Joe replied and moved next to Ben, sliding his arm over Ben’s shoulders as they looked out together. “So different from anything else I think either one of us have ever experienced.”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“Shall we unpack?” Joe asked, his fair skin seeming so illuminated under the bright sun.  
  
“We shall,” Ben replied.  
  
The interior of the little house was all white like the outside, with a little rack for shoes next to the front door, and it was an open layout, with the living area connected. In that, the huge windows overlooked the sea and all the sunlight was able to flood inside, warming the space as it shined on the walls and the glass coffee table. There was a grey couch against the wall behind the coffee table, facing the windows, and a matching armchair off to the side, perpendicular to the couch.  
  
Ben and Joe set their bags down on the floor next to the couch and went to explore the rest, venturing into the kitchen next. It was small, quaint really, with a backsplash of grey patterned tiles over the counters, and sleek wooden cabinets, with a stainless steel sink.  
  
“Adorable,” Joe commented.  
  
“I doubt we’ll be doing much actual cooking in here anyway,” Ben said. “But everything so pristine I’d be afraid to ruin it.”  
  
And then they reached the bedroom, which connected to the bathroom, and everything was all white except for a blue sheet poking out past the white comforter on the bed. There were matching night tables on either side of the bed and a vanity area in the corner of the room next to the bathroom door. The real excitement however was that two glass doors swung open to take them out to the back deck area, with a stone patio, lounge chairs and sofa, and a matching table in the middle, all surrounded by strung lanterns. Ben could only imagine how magical it would look come nightfall.  
  
“Wow, this is amazing,” Joe said, making his way to the edge and leaning on the stone barrier. “What a view.”  
  
It really was amazing--the water seemed so much closer then and still glimmered in the late afternoon light and Ben watched the miniature beach goers in fascination. For most of them, that was their life. The sea, the sand, the sun, the air, the whole place was just their life. His thoughts flashed back to his life in Brooklyn, which then seemed far less glamorous and shiny, but he reminded himself to stay in the present. He was on an island in the Mediterranean with the love of his life and it felt like he had been waiting his whole life for it.  
  
“Should we officially unpack now?” Joe asked.  
  
“Yeah, let’s get that done,” Ben agreed. “And then what?”  
  
Joe smiled. “The world is ours,” he said and, in that moment, Ben believed him. 

  


The winding roads down the island moved Ben and Joe, all slathered in sunscreen and sort of sticky, past other homes, all--at a glance--so similar to their temporary home, but when Ben really looked he saw all the differences in the shapes of the structures and windows and the subtle color differences even in the stone exteriors themselves. As they continued, they passed shops and a couple cafes, and still the actual beach seemed distant.  
  
Joe turned around and looked up, squinting. “Look, I think I can see our airbnb,” he said.  
  
Ben followed suit but he couldn’t tell what was what. “I don’t know, Joe,” he replied. “I can’t say we’ve totally acclimated yet.”  
  
They certainly weren’t, despite being able to spot other tourists, they both felt as though they stood out terribly, especially when they dropped into one of the cafes for iced coffee. Ben felt like a dolt for knowing no other language other than English, and it wasn’t all that frequently when he had to work around that. He didn’t realize so many people in Santorini would speak English so he was relieved, all the while silently admiring the barista’s accent.  
  
He and Joe sat outside and sipped their coffees, ice cold and rich. Ben looked up at the peak again, trying to spot people moving about, watching the cars down the roads, and squinting back up at the impossibly blue sky.  
  
“For dinner, there’s this place called Aladdin’s,” Joe said, looking at his phone. “It’s apparently really good and not too far. Although we would still have to get the car and drive there.”  
  
“This’ll be like, my first _authentic_ Greek meal,” Ben said. “I’m ready.”

  


Ready they were, stomachs rumbling all the way through the curving, ancient roads of Santorini, Ben acting as navigator for Joe, who was visibly sweating from the stress of the foreign roads and congested evening and probably tourist traffic. Still, they made it to Aladdin’s, sitting adjacent to a main road and thankfully housing a parking lot behind it, saving Joe from needing to struggle to parallel park.  
  
Inside it was dim with golden light and the small lobby they entered immediately lead to a small staircase, where, in the upstairs, the real dining took place. Everything was cream, beige and gold, and, glancing around, Ben’s mouth began to water at the sight of other people’s plates.  
  
“Should we get wine?” Joe asked after they were seated, holding the drink menu in front of himself.  
  
“What about getting a couple bottles after?” Ben suggested. “We can drink them on the patio.”  
  
Joe looked up, smiling. “Even better.”  
  
The food was amazing, starting with the falafel (“We have to” Joe insisted) and ending with almost-empty chicklaki and souvlaki plates, some dark green leaves still clinging to the plate as Ben went for another piece of the chicken. It was all so fresh and _real_ tasting, and a nice change from the richer, heavier dinners he had become used to in Brooklyn. He had had Greek food before back in Brooklyn but it was always a hurried lunch, never a calm, sit-down experience and, of course, he had never had it _in_ Greece.  
  
Ben, full and happy with food, gazed at Joe through the flickering candlelight that sat in the middle of the table.  
  
Joe caught Ben’s glance and smirked. “What?”  
  
“Nothing,” Ben replied. “Just--just really happy to be here. With you.”  
  
Joe’s smirk turned into a coy smile. “Me too, Ben. I’ve never taken a trip like this with a--with a significant other. Always little road trips. And I wanna do more of those with you,” he said. “But this is really incredible.”  
  
“It still feels sort of surreal,” Ben said. “Well, all of it.”  
  
Joe titled his head. “What do you mean?”  
  
Ben leaned back in his chair, then leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, pushing his plate forward. “I never really thought I’d find like, ‘the one.’ I really liked--even loved a couple of them--the people I’ve been with but I never believed in soulmates or anything like that,” he explained. “I really thought, ultimately, I’d be alone.”  
  
Joe sat in silence, looking at Ben until he felt the impulse to look down in embarrassment but he fought the impulse and instead he smiled, although he could still feel that his face was still flushed. It was easier to be so vulnerable with Joe than with anyone else, but the blatant transparency of his feelings still unnerved Ben.  
  
“You thought you would be alone?” Joe finally asked in soft voice.  
  
Ben felt himself grow more flustered. “Well, kind of, I mean--isn’t it so hard to find ‘the one’ or whatever?” he asked. “What if we hadn’t been cast together? We would have never met, so neither one of us would ever get to be with our soulmate.”  
  
Joe paused again and then asked, “You think we’re soulmates?”  
  
Ben chuckled nervously. What a declaration he was making. “It’s such a hokey word, but yeah, I do think we’re soulmates,” he confessed and went for his water.  
  
Joe chuckled too, smiling as he looked down, and then he said, “I think so too.”  
  
“Good, because I was worried I went on about this soppy, perhaps totally illogical, concept for nothing,” Ben replied, feeling so hot in the restaurant but at least relieved Joe also felt they were meant to be together.  
  
“It’s funny, I was just thinking about the concept of soulmates the other day,” Joe told him. “And I was thinking about how I must believe in it, now that I know _you_ are my soulmate.”  
  
Ben felt his cheeks grow hotter. “Isn’t it crazy? BoRhap brought us together.”  
  
“It is a little crazy,” Joe said. “And I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  


Ben was having a little trouble containing himself as he and Joe perused for wine, Ben trailing him like a puppy, occasionally slipping his hand into the back pocket of Joe’s pants or slipping his hands past the hem of Joe's shirt, to which Joe would respond by turning around with a glare, despite stifling laughter. Eventually settling on the cheapest bottles they could find, they made it back outside into the thick warm air and Ben helped to navigate them back to the airbnb, eternally grateful they didn’t tumble over the cliffs.  
  
Joe popped open the bottle of white wine first, pouring it into glasses from the kitchen and handing one to Ben. They were standing on the patio, overlooking the sea, which then appeared to be black, and the lights from the homes beneath and around them.  
  
Joe raised his glass. “Cheers to being in Greece.”  
  
“Hell yeah,” Ben agreed, clinking his glass against Joe’s. “Cheers to that, mate.”  
  
Joe looked like a dream against the backdrop of the water and the star-laden sky, his skin a little glossy from the heat and all cast in shadow from the lanterns, his hazel eyes regarding Ben as if he already knew what he was thinking.  
  
Ben got it together, mustering the strength to sip the wine again and clumsily light a cigarette with one hand. Joe was right--he liked being a tease.  
  
Exhaling, he sat down on the sofa, reclining and stretching arm with the wine glass in hand over the back of it, his hand dangling over the edge. He took another drag and looked up at Joe, who shot him a look that seemed to convey “Oh come on” but he sat down next to Ben anyway.  
  
Ben turned his head to blow the smoke in the opposite direction. “What’s on the itinerary for tomorrow?” he asked.  
  
“Beach day,” Joe replied. “That’s what I’m thinking.”  
  
Ben straightened, excited. “For sure. You bring your Speedo?”  
  
Joe scoffed. “ _My_ Speedo? Please.”  
  
“Oh come on, you wouldn’t even for me?”  
  
“You’ve seen me in my briefs.”  
  
“I sure have, and it’s quite a look.”  
  
Joe raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps _you_ think so, but I’m not sure the rest of Santorini would agree with you.”  
  
“Well, I like having you to myself anyway,” Ben told him and sipped his wine, raising his eyebrows at Joe.  
  
“Trust me, you can have me in a Speedo _all_ to yourself.”  
  
Ben smiled as he took another drag, then looked out over the edge to the black water and the smattering of silver stars hanging above it--magic. It was the only way to describe it.  
  
He took a long, final drag and stamped the cigarette out in the white ceramic ashtray that the airbnb owner had graciously left, then moved into Joe, reaching his hand up to trace the curve of his ear, his fingertips gliding down the side of his neck.  
  
“Soulmates, right?” Ben asked.  
  
Joe leaned into Ben’s touch, clasping Ben’s hand against his neck. “Soulmates,” he said. “Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm I wonder what's in store next...thank you all for being so patient. I was on a roll with this at first but then PMS and watching BOTH Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants movies got me.  
> <3 <3 <3


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe we're on chapter 25?? Incredible.  
> I'm really excited for you guys to read this one.

At first when Ben woke up he thought he was still in Brooklyn, tucked under the covers, the sun streaming in through the windows of his loft. It wasn’t until he smelled the scent of an unfamiliar laundry detergent and felt the unfamiliar sheets around him that he remembered he was in Greece, and he opened his eyes and the sunlight shone on the white paint of the walls and through the glass doors to the patio. Ben could see the empty bottles of wine still out there, and when he looked out at the room, he saw his own clothes strewn about. It had taken him less than a day to create a mess.  
  
It was so bright he wasn’t even sure of what time it was--he was too used to foggy, grey London mornings and smoggy, grey Brooklyn mornings. He looked at Joe sleeping next to him, the sheets torn away from his body from probably overheating throughout the night. Ben thought Joe always looked so _dead _when he slept, just completely out, limbs every which way, lips parted with the occasional trail of drool down his chin, and hardly anything ever woke him up. Ben figured Joe had that advantage after living in Brooklyn for so long. Ben didn’t miss the sounds of New York at all then. In fact, he decided to step out on the patio again after chugging a bottle of water to try and ease the wine-induced dehydration.__  
  
Cigarettes in hand, Ben stood out on the patio overlooking the island. He shielded the cigarette in his mouth with his hand to light it, and the smoke trailed out of his lungs and disappeared into the sky before he could even blink, the breeze carrying it away. It was so sunny that it hurt his eyes and he squinted against it to look at the water. Ben could only imagine how warm and intoxicating it must be, and he couldn’t wait to actually be in it.  
  
He sat back on the couch, reclining lazily, still sort of sleepy despite all his excitement. The breeze blew over him as birds chirped nearby, and the distant clamoring of people was not like a Brooklyn cacophony--it was truly a symphony to Ben. A symphony of the new and the unexplored.  
  
As Ben took a long drag and concentrated on the image of the smoke twirling around, he heard the glass door open and there was Joe, blocking the sun.  
  
“Good morning,” Ben said, smiling up at him.  
  
“Good morning,” Joe replied, sitting down next to Ben. He started to play with his bed-head. “How long have you been up?”  
  
“Not long. God, it’s so beautiful. As soon as I saw the sun in the room, I just had to come out.”  
  
“Right? So blue. So bright.”  
  
Joe still looked sleepy as he twirled a lock of Ben’s hair between his fingers, a dull crease mark still imprinted on his cheek and his hair mussed. Ben ran his hand through Joe’s hair, trying to untangle and smooth it. He loved that Joe had such a kid-like side to him still, even sitting there with Ben stroking his hair, he projected the enthusiasm and adoration of a child, just sweetness and love. But Ben loved it, quite possibly even more, when Joe took control.  
  
Experiencing the dominant side of Joe was something Ben had never anticipated because he had never thought it existed. As friends, Joe was by no means weak-willed but Ben, even in fantasy, never imagined him taking the reins. Ben had usually imagined himself having to take charge so, when he and Joe did get intimate for the first time, he was taken aback when Joe domineered the whole thing. Ben never thought he would even enjoy being submissive in any way, yet there he was with Joe, eager to bend at his will, and Joe knew just how to incite that.  
  
Ben stamped out the cigarette and held Joe’s face in his hands, kissing him with far more furor than most other morning kisses they'd had. He waited for Joe to catch up, feeling his body relax and his lips part, before he slid his tongue into Joe’s mouth.  
  
That morning, their first morning in Greece, Ben didn’t particularly feel like waiting for Joe to wake up and take control. He moved on top of him, half-straddling him, without their mouths disconnecting, Ben moaning into Joe’s mouth, sucking on his bottom lip as he let Ben get on top of him.  
  
“Whoa,” Joe said, breaking away from Ben’s kisses with a grin. He ran his hands down Ben’s bare arms. “Someone’s excited today.”  
  
“We didn’t even get a chance to uh, christen the bed,” Ben replied, kissing Joe’s mouth again before kissing down his jaw to Joe’s neck. Ben giggled into Joe’s skin when he heard the soft moans coming from him and he said, “I won’t leave marks this time, promise.”  
  
Ben clung to that promise, sucking very gently on Joe’s neck, earning more moans from him, and tugged at the collar of Joe’s t-shirt so he could kiss the dip of his collarbone. Joe slid his hands up under Ben’s shirt all the way up to his chest, squeezing his pecs, and Ben returned to kissing Joe’s mouth. The heat from the sun bore down on them, permeating through Ben’s t-shirt, and the heat of his own body getting so worked up made him feel the overwhelming need to tear all his clothes off.  
  
But the sound of a neighboring door opening and then slamming shut, echoing slightly, snapped him out of focus, and Joe’s hands were still on his chest.  
  
“I forgot where we were for a second,” Joe said.  
  
“Me too,” Ben said with a laugh.  
  
“I need water. Water and coffee.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s a little too hot out here to uh, finish this,” Ben agreed. “You probably have the start of a sunburn already.”  
  
Joe reached up and felt his face. “I hope not. It’s too early in the trip for that.”  
  
“Well, get ready,” Ben said. “And slather on that sunscreen. It’s a beach day.”

  


  
“So eventually this will lead to Perivolos beach?” Ben asked, he and Joe making their way across the warm sand, passing people lounging under umbrellas or drinking in the sun.  
  
“Apparently,” Joe replied, looking down at a map he had printed out back home. “Although it said online that they’re the same beach, just different names.”  
  
“A lot of people seem to be getting drunk already,” Ben observed, passing by another couple who had a full bottle of liquor between them, each of them holding plastic cups. “It’s pretty early.” Little did Joe know, Ben had tucked a bottle of liquor in his backpack, so the other people actually seemed far more relatable then.  
  
“It’s a party beach,” Joe said.  
  
“A party beach? Are we going to be partying?”  
  
“Well, we could, but I primarily sought it out because the other ones are apparently super dead all the time.”  
  
“Whatever the case, the water looks amazing.”  
  
“Yeah, it does. Just gotta find the right spot.”  
  
They kept walking until they found a spot they both deemed ideal, or rather, acceptable--a nice square of space to themselves under one of the umbrellas, far enough away from most of the other people. At least Joe’s bit of research had proven right, with that part of the beach being a little less congested than where they had started, although there were still plenty of people blasting music and drinking, and very few children to be seen.  
  
Ben laid out the giant beach towel Joe had packed for them and grabbed the sunblock from his backpack. Umbrella or no umbrella, he could already feel himself burning a little, and being in the water would only make that worse.  
  
He took his shirt off, tossing it at the corner of the towel, and handed the bottle of sunscreen to Joe. “Help?” he said and turned around and then heard the sunscreen squelch out of the bottle before the slightly cold glob of it was on his upper back.  
  
“You have such good back muscles,” Joe said as he massaged the sunscreen in. “Must be all those deadlifts you do.”  
  
Ben chuckled. “That’s definitely part of it. I’ve been trying to workout more.”  
  
“Well, it’s paying off,” Joe replied and squeezed another glob into his hand then handed the bottle back to Ben. He ran his hands down the rest of Ben’s back to right above the waistband of his swim trunks.  
  
Ben then felt Joe’s hand squeezing his ass and his chin resting on his shoulder. He placed a kiss at the crook of Ben’s neck.  
  
“Don’t let the exoticism of this beach lead you to believe we’ll shag here,” Ben warned him with a giggle. “Now turn around, I’ll get you.”  
  
“I don’t know if I’m gonna go in the water,” Joe said.  
  
“What, why?”  
  
“Well, maybe later, right now I just wanna hang back, I guess. Read a little.”  
  
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Read? We’re in Santorini and you want to _read_?”  
  
“What’s wrong with that?”  
  
Ben sometimes wondered if Joe forgot about how well Ben knew him. Ben didn’t like poking and prodding to get answers out of people and especially with Joe. But he knew about Joe’s insecurities--which still mystified Ben, even when he tried to be objective--and he did sometimes with Joe would just _talk_ about them more. Like right then.  
  
“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” Ben asked, turning around and resting his forearms on either side of Joe’s neck, clasping his hands together behind him.  
  
Joe looked up at the underside of the umbrella as if he truly wanted to debate that, but then he looked back at Ben and said, “Yeah, I know.”  
  
“And while I know that doesn’t solve everything, I hope it means something to you,” Ben went on. “My only goal is that you don’t feel so insecure when you’re with me, I guess.”  
  
Joe flashed a tiny smile. “I do feel better with you, yeah. But I also know how people look at you and--well, you know, it’s pretty rare when I get any attention like that.”  
  
“Which I will never understand, you’re beautiful in every way,” Ben quickly replied. “But I could understand you feeling that way and I’m sorry. I really do wish I could help.”  
  
“You help,” Joe assured him.  
  
Ben sighed. “Well, the water can wait a bit. Anyway, I have a surprise.” He grabbed his backpack and pulled out a bottle of Ouzo. “Ta-da.”  
  
“Oh jeez, I thought we were going to save that for a nice night back at the airbnb,” Joe said. “Now you’ll fit in with everyone drinking so early, right?”  
  
“We’ll never pass as locals, but at least we can try,” Ben said with a wink and then unscrewed the bottle. He knocked it back, the licorice-flavored liquor immediately attacking his taste buds, and he forced himself to swallow so he could cough, thrusting the bottle at Joe.  
  
“God,” Joe laughed, taking the bottle. “That good?”  
  
Ben managed to stifle his coughing, though the taste still lingered on his tongue. “It’s intense. Try it,” he urged.  
  
Joe chuckled and shook his head as he took a swig and Ben reveled in the look of shock and mild horror that had painted Joe’s face.  
  
“Oh my god. That _is_ intense. What percentage is this?” Joe asked and peered at the bottle, then his eyes widened. “ _Ninety_ proof?”  
  
Ben laughed. “We’re gonna get fucked, Joe.”  
  
Joe took another, more meager, swig, wincing: “Well, when in Greece.”  
  
“So will you go in the water with me now?”  
  
Joe sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll go in. I’m sure as I’m walking down there, that liquor will hit me hard enough for me to not care anyway.” He quickly tore off his shirt and tossed it to where Ben’s lay crumpled.  
  
Ben grinned--often times it was Joe helping _him_ to get out of his comfort zone, so that day felt particularly special. He grabbed the sunscreen again and coated Joe’s shoulders and back, then returned to the ouzo and took another big swig.  
  
“Let’s do it,” Ben said and started to walk to the water, Joe hesitating for a moment before trailing behind him. As Ben stepped out from under the umbrella, the hot rays of the sun swaddled him, the sand already warmer than it had been on their initial walk, and he couldn’t wait to plunge himself into the rolling sea.  
  
He did plunge, belly first, into the shallows, salt water bursting into his nose as his knees and hands made contact with the wet sand beneath him. He sputtered as he stood up, swim trunks drenched and dripping, and heard Joe snickering.  
  
“Come on, get in,” Ben urged.  
  
“I _am_ in!” Joe replied.  
  
“No, no, _in_.”  
  
“I’ll go in at my own pace.”  
  
Ben just wasn’t going to accept that so he sank back into the water and glided over to Joe before grabbing his ankle.  
  
Joe managed to twist away. “Ben, you better not,” he warned.  
  
Ben couldn’t even take Joe’s face seriously as he looked up at him, so he swiped at his ankle again, managing to pull Joe down into the water with him, a small splash going upward into his face. Still, the saltwater Ben had to, again, try and wipe away from his eyes was worth it: Joe sprang up onto his knees on the sand, looking absolutely offended.  
  
“Isn’t it nice?” Ben asked coyly.  
  
Joe glared at Ben at first and then broke into a quiet laugh. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said. “Of course, we’ve never been in a body of water together before.”  
  
“Seen me like what?”  
  
“Seen you so playful, I guess.”  
  
Ben scoffed. “We play _all_ the time, Joe.”  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
“Well, I like the water,” Ben told Joe. “I used to go to the seaside a lot as a kid. This brings back good memories.”  
  
“Family vacations,” Joe mused. “Me too. Good memories.”  
  
“Now we can make our own memories together,” Ben said and laid on his back, floating, and everything around him seemed to disappear except for the warm water around him and the heat of the sun on his face.  
  
  
  
  
“You’re already getting a little, uh, pink there, buddy,” Ben remarked as he and Joe situated themselves back under the umbrella, drying themselves off before sitting in the lounge chairs that accompanied all the umbrellas, very conveniently so.  
  
Joe lifted his arm and peered over his shoulder. “Shit, seriously?  
  
“You might as well get me again too,” Ben said, squeezing sunscreen into his hand and rubbing it on Joe.  
  
Two women appeared at the shaded area from umbrella next to Ben and Joe, the taller, black-haired woman setting down a beach bag on the sand and the slightly shorter strawberry-blonde kicked off her flip-flops and grabbed a bottle of water from the bag.  
  
As much as Ben liked the convenience of all the umbrellas and lounge chairs on the beach, he wished they hadn’t been put so close together. But they would never survive in the sun unshielded plus, he asked himself, wasn’t one of the fun things about a vacation abroad meeting new people?  
  
Although as Ben opened the bottle of ouzo again, unfortunately slightly warm even from being in the shade, he saw Joe glance at the women and then pull his t-shirt back over his head again, concealing himself.  
  
Ben knocked back the ouzo and then grabbed for a bottle of water from his backpack. He didn’t need sunburn _and_ an alcohol-fueled heat stroke. He then handed the bottle of liquor to Joe.  
  
“Maybe they’ll talk to us,” Ben said in a hushed voice. “Do you think they’re Greek?”  
  
“I feel like the beaches here are full of tourists,” Joe replied.  
  
“Sadly, we’re not Greek,” the strawberry-blonde woman said.  
  
Ben felt himself blush--apparently the breeze really carried their voices, or maybe they just weren't subtle.  
  
“Sorry,” Ben said. “We were just wondering. We got here yesterday and haven’t actually met any other tourists yet.”  
  
“It does seem like the beach is full of them,” the same woman said, looking at Joe. “Or ‘us,’ I should say.”  
  
“You’re from England?” the black-haired woman asked Ben.  
  
“Yeah. Where are you guys from?”  
  
“North Carolina,” they said in unison.  
  
“You must be more used to the heat then,” Joe remarked.  
  
They laughed and the black-haired woman said, “It’s a lot less humid here, which is nice.” She stretched, her torso curving underneath the black spandex of her swimsuit, her long straight hair hitting her lower back.  
  
“What are you drinking?” the strawberry-blonde asked Ben, her own swimsuit still half-covered by the thin white hoodie she was wearing.  
  
He held up the bottle. “Ouzo.”  
  
“It’s good, right?” she replied excitedly.  
  
“Well--define _good_.”  
  
She laughed and retrieved a bottle of rum from the beach bag. “We brought our own supplies too.”  
  
“We didn’t bring cups,” the black-haired woman said. “To cheers with or anything.”  
  
“That’s okay,” her friend replied. “We’ll clink in pairs.” She smiled at Ben and Joe, but her eyes lingered on Joe, which made Ben rejoice silently--and Joe had thought he wouldn’t get any attention.  
  
She clinked the bottle of rum against the bottle of ouzo and she and Ben took their respective drinks, Ben doing his best to not cough and embarrass himself. The strawberry-blonde handed the rum to her friend and Ben did the same, thrusting the ouzo at Joe.  
  
Ben was feeling the alcohol so he figured Joe must have been feeling it even more. The heat, excitement and salt water were probably--definitely--exacerbating the effects. He grabbed his same bottle of water and chugged a bit then handed that to Joe.  
  
“I’m Ben, by the way,” Ben said to the women. “And this is Joe.”  
  
“Ara,” the black-haired woman said.  
  
“Jess,” the strawberry-blonde said, then looked at Joe. “So Ben’s from England, and you’re from--?”  
  
“Brooklyn,” Joe answered and took another sip of the water.  
  
“How’d you guys meet?” Jess asked.  
  
Ben and Joe looked at one another and Ben knew they were thinking the same thing: not this, not on vacation, please.  
  
“We’re actors,” Joe answered simply.  
  
“Oh, cool,” Jess and Ara agreed, nodding.  
  
Ben waited for the next inevitable questions, but Ara and Jess left it at that, each taking another sip of rum before Jess laid out a towel over one of the lounge chairs.  
  
Joe smiled at Ben and nodded approvingly--a relief for both of them.  
  
“How do _you_ two know each other?” Ben asked Jess and Ara.  
  
“Friends since college,” Ara answered. “We’ve taken a couple trips together before but this is our first trip abroad.”  
  
“Ours too,” Joe said.  
  
Jess smiled inquisitively, grey-blue eyes shining. “What made you pick Santorini?”  
  
“I think we just really wanted to get away,” Joe said. “Somewhere far away, and new to both of us, so Santorini seemed like a good choice.  
  
“Yeah, I think so too,” Jess replied  
  
“How’s the water?” Ara asked.  
  
“It’s so nice,” Ben told her. “Amazing.”  
  
She smiled and tilted her chin up at him. “You going in?”  
  
Ben shrugged, returning Ara’s sly smile. “Are you?”  
  
Ara shrugged, mocking him.  
  
Ben laughed and turned, whispering, “Jess likes you. Have fun,” in Joe’s ear before beginning to saunter down the beach with Ara.  
  
“So this is like, a boys trip for you guys?” Ara asked him as they waded into the water. “You came to the right beach then. Although you’d probably wanna come back later for the real action.”  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re here for _that_ ,” Ben said. “Joe and I are...together.”  
  
“Oh, okay, I thought that might be the case,” Ara replied. “You guys are cute.”  
  
Ben laughed, relieved at how easygoing the conversation was. He still wasn't used to telling people he had a male partner. “Thanks. I sensed your friend Jess might be into Joe, so I thought he could have fun with that.”  
  
“He looks a lot like her ex,” Ara explained. “They broke up pretty recently--another reason for this trip--so it makes sense.”  
  
“That’s rough.”  
  
Ara waved her hand in the air. “It was for the best. He was kind of a dick. How long have you two been together?”  
  
Ben had to count. “Like 5 months? Feels like longer. We were friends for a while before.”  
  
“From acting together, right?”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“That’s cool. I always wanted to meet someone through work. Well, I have, just not someone who’s stuck around, y’know?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s tough. Joe and I were talking about that the other day. How if we hadn’t worked together, we would have never even met.”  
  
“Funny, isn’t it? Fate, maybe,” Ara replied and then, both of them in thigh-deep water, glided into the water. She shot up suddenly. “Fuck, that’s not that warm.”  
  
“But you plunged, you got it over with,” Ben said and followed her lead, submerging his whole body in the water, though he was still used to it from his initial swim.  
  
“What do you think our chances of a shark attack are?” Ara asked.  
  
“Don’t say that.”  
  
“Well, it’s a legitimate concern.”  
  
“No, no, shark attacks are so rare. I’ll not have that ruin my time in the water,” Ben said, then turned around to look at the beach.  
  
Joe and Jess were sitting in the lounge chairs next to one another, and at least from what Ben could see, Joe didn’t look nervous, but through the conversation between him and Jess, Ben knew he was probably upset with him for leaving. Still Ben reveled in his own scheming.  
  
Joe deserved attention and to be flirted with, and having a cute stranger provide said flirtation was always fun, even if you were partnered, and Jess _was_ really cute, with her stormy eyes and tan skin dusted in freckles. She had taken off the hoodie and was lounging back in a white bikini, legs laid straight against the chair and her ankles crossed. Joe said something and she laughed.  
  
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Ara asked.  
  
“I don’t know, but Joe is at least a little drunk right now,” Ben said. “That ouzo is strong stuff.”  
  
“Seriously, Jess and I had some last night. It’s no joke.” Ara flashed her dark eyes at Ben and asked, “How far do you wanna go out?”  
  
Ben thought of the sharks despite his adamant denial of them being a real threat. “I’m content right here, thank you.”  
  
“Oh come on, we have the whole Mediterranean in front of us,” Ara protested.  
  
“I’ll be your lifeguard from here.”  
  
“How is that going to help me?”  
  
“It’s moral support.”  
  
Ara splashed him. “Let’s at least see who can hold their breath the longest.”  
  
  
  
Drenched and dripping, Ben and Ara slowly made their way back to Joe and Jess who were still lounging on the chairs, the bottle of rum in the sand beside Jess.  
  
“Joe, did you know that Ben can hold his breath for almost a minute and a half?” Ara asked him, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself.  
  
“I had an idea,” Joe replied with a coy smile.  
  
Ben grabbed his own towel. “Are you two still drinking?”  
  
“ _I_ am,” Jess declared. “Joe, not so much, no matter how much I peer pressured him.”  
  
“I’m a lightweight,” Joe said. “The ouzo is hardcore.”  
  
“He should keep his wits about him anyway,” Ben told Jess and Ara. “He drove us here.”  
  
“Where are you guys staying?” Ara asked.  
  
“At this airbnb not too far from here. We have a great view of this, actually,” Ben answered.  
  
“We’re not staying too far from here either,” Jess said. “If you guys wanna hang out another time while you’re here.” She looked at Joe.  
  
Ben also looked at Joe, but his expression didn’t seem to convey a hard no or an enthusiastic yes. Still, he could tell Joe wasn’t going to ask Jess for her number, so Ben handed her his own phone. The worst thing would be her relentlessly trying to get Joe's number, so he felt they had nothing to lose. Ara and Jess seemed fun, anyway.  
  
“Sweet,” Jess said when she handed it back to Ben. “You guys are cool.”  
  
Joe snickered and looked up at Ben. “You hear that, Benny? We’re _cool_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say "poor Joe" but I honestly love the idea of Ben flouncing away so Joe can get some much-needed attention from a lAdY. So what do you think, will Ben and Joe hang out with their new friend again before they go back to New York?


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay y'all, this was a **whirlwind.** I was feeling a type of way in the beginning and then a different type of way later on, as you'll be able to see.  
>   
> I'm actually nervous to post this one, partially because it was pretty exhausting to write and I feel like it's sloppy, but also because...well, you'll see.

“I can’t believe you abandoned me like that,” Joe said to Ben back in their airbnb, both of them still slightly damp from the beach, towels wrapped around their waists. “Actually, I can believe it, but still.”  
  
“Oh come on, I thought it would be fun for you,” Ben said. “You were literally just saying how you don’t get a lot of attention, and Jess was really into you. You can’t tell me it doesn’t feel good.”  
  
“Alright, so it _is_ nice but I would’ve rather spent that time with you,” Joe replied and opened the door to the patio, taking off his towel and laying it on one of the chairs.  
  
Ben sighed. “That’s fair. I’m sorry Joe. I thought it would be fun.” He removed his own towel and laid it on the chair next to Joe’s, his skin sticky with salt.  
  
Joe sighed then. “It was fun, I guess--” He paused and ran a hand through his hair. “I guess it was just--sort of odd. Plus that ouzo really got me.”  
  
“Odd how?”  
  
“Those girls just really took to us. I’m not used to that.”  
  
“Me either, despite what you may think.”  
  
Joe rolled his eyes. “Sure, Benny.”  
  
Normally Ben liked when Joe called him that but right then, he felt dismissed. Ben had a different sociability than Joe but that didn’t mean Joe couldn’t _also_ have similar experiences. He had admitted to it right then and there.  
  
“Joe, you’re also a social butterfly, need I remind you,” Ben said, leaning against the open doorway to the patio, the sun just hitting his shoulder. “And Jess really liked talking to you, which I think is great. I admit, maybe I wasn’t graceful with the whole thing and I know this trip is for us, so I’m sorry. But I’m also not like, the Playgirl you think I am, honestly.”  
  
Joe’s face softened. “Sorry, Ben.”  
  
Ben nodded. The heat and sun mixed with a 90 proof alcohol probably weren’t doing their tempers any favors.  
  
“I think we’re just hungry,” Ben said.  
  
Joe managed a laugh. “Yeah, that’s probably part of it.”  
  
Ben removed himself from the doorway and went in front of Joe, his left hand ever so slightly grasping Joe’s right hand at his thigh, their forearms gently pressed against one another’s.  
  
“I love you,” Ben said, his face inches away from Joe’s, their noses almost touching. He looked in Joe’s amber eyes, waiting for him to kiss him.  
  
Joe didn’t disappoint--he returned Ben’s gaze and touched the tip of his nose to Ben’s, and Ben smiled.  
  
“I love you too,” Joe said and pressed his lips to Ben’s.  
  
Ben sighed against Joe’s mouth and brought his hands up to grip his forearms. Joe flipped him around and pushed him onto the bed, getting on top of him as Ben flattened against the mattress.  
  
Joe held Ben’s throat and kissed the side of his neck. “You smell like the sea,” he said and kissed his neck again. “Taste like it too.”  
  
Ben giggled. “Is it good?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” Joe answered, biting Ben’s shoulder.  
  
Ben moaned. Joe was already hard against him and, despite the thought of them dirtying the sheets with their salt-coated bodies and despite his still-lingering hangry irritation, Ben wanted him.  
  
Joe pulled Ben up, both of them on their knees with Joe still cradling his throat, pressing his backside against him. With his other hand Joe pulled down Ben’s swim trunks and gripped him.  
  
“I do like getting attention from other people,” Joe said. “But at the end of the day, your attention is all that matters.”  
  
“Fuck, Joe,” Ben breathed. “We’re gonna ruin the sheets.”  
  
Joe didn’t even acknowledge that, he just tightened his grip around Ben’s throat and spat into his hand before returning it to his groin, stroking as his own hard-on pressed into Ben’s ass.  
  
If anything, Ben hoped Joe knew how much he turned him on. Already he was fighting back the urge to buck into Joe's hand and he could already feel the build-up reaching its peak. He fought back against that too, trying to steady his breathing.  
  
He finagled his way out of Joe’s grasp, turning around and pulling Joe on top of him.  
  
“I’m not gonna give in that easy,” Ben told him.  
  
“No?” Joe asked, pouting.  
  
Ben brought Joe’s neck to his mouth and kissed it, starting right below his jaw then working his way down to Joe’s collarbone as he spread his legs, letting Joe relax into him with his knees on either side of his waist.  
  
“Do you even know how amazing your skin is?” Ben asked, gazing at the pale skin of Joe’s collar, at the little dip in the center that led straight to the smattering of auburn chest hair.  
  
Joe laughed. “You think so?”  
  
“Of course I do,” Ben said, running his thumb over Joe’s neck. “Always so soft. Even now, after being in salt water, your skin is so soft.” He looked up into Joe’s eyes. “And I love when you let your beard get all scruffy, like right now. It feels so good.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
Ben held the side of Joe’s face and ran his hand down his jaw, the scruff rubbing against the softness of his palm.  
  
“Yeah,” Ben said and, with a smirk, he added, “And I bet if I weren’t with you, you’d have everyone running right after you.”  
  
“Well, I’m glad that’s not the case,” Joe replied and kissed Ben’s lips softly. “You’re the only one I need next to me.”

 

  


“We have to get t-shirts,” Joe said to Ben. They were inside the Santorini Brewing Company, waiting on a flight of beer for each of them and looking around at the thick brown glass bottles and stacks of t-shirts on display, all of them printed with some form of the brewing company’s rounded, adorable donkey logo.  
  
“Oh, hell yeah,” Ben agreed, and then the flights were set in front of them, four small glasses of froth-topped beer sitting in the wood planks. He picked the lightest-colored one up and held it in front of himself. “Cheers.”  
  
Joe did the same, clinking his glass against Ben’s. “Cheers.”  
  
The beer tasting seemed like an ideal, relaxing way to end their second night in Greece, having been completely famished after, as Ben had predicted, ruining the sheets of their bed and having to throw them in the washer back at the airbnb. The thought of Joe’s movie in upstate New York seemed much further away then, as did the thought of returning to Brooklyn. For a moment Ben imagined he and Joe living somewhere totally different--maybe Greece, maybe not--forever.  
  
“Thanks for earlier,” Joe said, sipping his beer.  
  
“What do you mean?” Ben asked.  
  
“For reminding me of how, uh--how hot you think I am?”  
  
Ben laughed. “Perhaps I need to remind you more often.”  
  
“No, no, it’s not like that,” Joe assured him. “I see the way you look at me, how you light up when you see me. It’s like, I can remind myself of that and even feel it all in the moment--”  
  
“I would hope so.”  
  
“Insecurity just gets the best of me sometimes, I think you and I both know that,” Joe explained. “But I want to work on that. And you were right, having someone else flirt with me was quite an ego-boost.”  
  
“See, I told you.” Ben smiled. “Even with your own securities, you know exactly who you are. You’re always just yourself, no matter what. Sometimes I feel like I have to put on a whole facade. It’s not easy being vulnerable--that’s one of the things I love about you.”  
  
“Well, you became vulnerable with me fairly soon after we met,” Joe reminded him. “Which I know now isn’t easy for you.”  
  
“With you, it’s much easier,” Ben said. “You’ve seen about all there is to see.”

  


Ben and Joe were walking off their flights and pints of beer when Ben spotted a familiar head of strawberry-blonde hair heading in their direction. He thought he could be mistaken but then he saw the tall, black-haired figure following.  
  
“Oh my god,” he said to Joe. “Look who it is.”  
  
Joe turned his head away from the signs written in Greek plastered onto passing windows and followed Ben’s eyes. “Oh my god,” he echoed.  
  
As Ara had said, maybe it was fate how the two pairs met yet again, this time fully clothed, all coming to a halt.  
  
“Oh hey,” Ara said, sort of squinting at them. “Ben and--Joe?”  
  
“You remembered,” Ben said, genuinely impressed, especially considering how much they all had to drink at the beach.  
  
“But do you remember _our_ names?” Jess asked.  
  
“Jess,” Joe said, then looked at Ara. “And Ara.”  
  
Jess smiled. “Your sobriety probably helped.”  
  
“Well, not so much now, we just left the brewery,” Joe told her.  
  
“Oh, how was it?” Ara asked. “We’re not really big beer drinkers.”  
  
“It was good,” Ben said, looking to Joe who nodded in validation. “We got t-shirts, too.” He held up the blue t-shirt printed with the cartoon donkey.  
  
“That’s amazing,” Ara said. “Now I kind of want one.”  
  
“What are you guys doing now?” Jess asked.  
  
Ben and Joe looked at each other, with Ben wondering where that question was going, and him thinking Joe was probably wondering the same thing. He let Joe answer.  
  
“Just walking around for now,” Joe said. “Know of any good spots we should check out before it’s too late?”  
  
“Well, Ara and I were gonna get some wine,” Jess said. “Maybe you guys would wanna stop by our airbnb for a bit tonight and join us?”  
  
Ben looked at Joe again, who gave him a sideways glance and a suspecting turn of his lips.  
  
“What’s the address?” Ben asked, pulling out his phone. It wasn’t as if they _had_ to go.  
  
“I can’t pronounce the street name,” Jess said, extending her hand out. “I’ll type it in.”  
  
Joe shot Ben another sideways glance.  
  
Jess handed Ben’s phone back to him. “Just let me know if you guys are coming,” she said. “We only have two nights left, so it’ll be fun to hang out with you as a last hurrah.”  
  
“Yeah, we’ll let you know,” Ben said.  
  
“Alright, see you guys,” Ara said and she and Jess moved past.  
  
There was a moment of silence before Joe said to Ben, “I can’t believe that.”  
  
“Why? Don’t you think it could be fun?” Ben replied.  
  
“I mean, yeah, actually I do, but--if Jess _is_ into me, don’t you think it might be awkward?”  
  
“I think they’re both fun,” Ben said. “Plus, they really are staying close to us, according to that address. So it’s not like it’ll be a big fiasco when we wanna take off.”  
  
Joe held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, you’re right. We’re on vacation,” he said. “Maybe it’ll be an adventure.”

 

  


Ben was gripping the bottle of ouzo in his hand as he and Joe walked to Jess and Ara’s airbnb, with Ben entrusting Joe with the directions, despite it being a short distance away. Navigating the winding white streets of their little spot in Santorini wasn’t necessarily the easiest thing for one American and one Brit.  
  
Ben could hear music from the outside of the house as they reached it, so he texted Jess that they were there and moments later she came out from the back.  
  
“Hey, come on back,” she said, waving them over and leading them to the patio area that was roughly the same size as the one Ben and Joe were staying at, though the view was a little more obstructed by other houses. Still, the stars shone bright in the sky and Ben could smell the sea through the breeze.  
  
“It’s a party now,” Ara remarked from her lounge chair, a lit cigarette in her hand.  
  
“You even brought the ouzo,” Jess noted. “I found shot glasses in the cupboards here.”  
  
“Lucky find,” Ben said, looking at Joe, who gave him a half-smile and shrugged. He handed the bottle to Jess. “This looks a lot like the patio at our airbnb too. Except we have a better view of the water.”  
  
“Well, that must be nice,” Ara replied with just a touch of sarcasm as she stood up.  
  
Jess lined up three shot glasses and then one clear glass on the small patio table and poured to ouzo into each of them, taking the clear glass for herself.  
  
“Cheers,” she declared  
  
“Wait,” Ara cut in. “We have to _actually_ cheers to something.”  
  
“To new friends,” Ben said and raised his shot glass.  
  
“New friends,” Joe echoed.  
  
“Hell yeah,” Ara said.  
  
The ouzo burned just as bad as the first time but Ben swallowed and tried to not look around too intently for water--there was nothing more emasculating than not being able to take down a drink. It wasn’t until after he swallowed and lit a cigarette that he felt immersed in the situation, and then he was trying to figure out what song was playing from what he figured was Ara’s phone.  
  
“What kind of wine did you get?” Joe asked.  
  
Jess held up one of the bottles, the glass such a rich, opaque red that it almost looked black. “Boutari Nemea,” she said. “2016.”  
  
“I don’t know much about wine,” Joe told her. “Despite Ben and I semi-frequently buying bottles of it from the five-dollar bins.”  
  
“I took a Wines of the World class in college,” Jess replied. “But I didn’t retain a lot of information.”  
  
“I wonder why,” Ara said.  
  
“Ha-ha, Ara,” Jess replied and took the wine screw that was sitting on the table and tore the foil, then inserted it into the cork. “Jesus, I suck at opening these.”  
  
“I’ll get it,” Joe said. “I’m basically an expert at this point.”  
  
Ben took note of the smile on Jess’ face as she handed Joe the bottle, how her eyes stayed on him as he held the base of it against the table and worked the screw, finally getting the cork out of the neck with a satisfying pop.  
  
“You’ve got the muscles, clearly,” Jess remarked. “Shit, we need glasses.”  
  
Ben watched her head in through the back door and then met eyes with Ara, the cigarette in her hand nearly gone.  
  
“You even wore the donkey shirt,” she said to Ben.  
  
Ben looked down at his torso. “I did. Now I’m a little worried about getting wine on it.”  
  
Ara stamped out her cigarette in a small bowl that, Ben assumed, she had brought outside for that very purpose, and then Jess was back outside, careening through the back door and holding four wine glasses in her hands.  
  
Ben took a drag from his own cigarette as he watched Jess pour the blood-red wine into the glasses, then looked at Joe, whose face was a bit flushed. Ben meandered over to the ledge at the end of the patio and sat down, resting his wine glass on the smooth surface, his back facing the rest of the island.  
  
“So what party game are we playing?” Ara asked, settling back in her lounge chair. “Spin the bottle?”  
  
Ben and Jess both laughed, although he detected her laugh being that of nervous hope, whereas he found the proposal genuinely funny and sort of intriguing. He had played spin the bottle once in middle school with an empty soda bottle and, at the time, it had been one of his most awkward experiences. Playing it as adults seemed totally comical.  
  
“We need an empty bottle for that,” Joe replied.  
  
“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Ara chanted.  
  
Jess downed her glass of wine in one fell swoop as Ben looked on in marvel and Joe stared incredulously.  
  
“Joe, your turn to chug,” Ara insisted.  
  
“Ladies first,” Joe replied.  
  
Ara considered that for a second and then obliged, bringing the glass to her lips and tipping her head back until the liquid disappeared.  
  
“Good God,” Ben laughed.  
  
“It’s not like it was expensive,” Ara said. “But seriously, are we actually gonna play a ‘party game?’”  
  
“Never Have I Ever,” Jess said, pouring herself more wine.  
  
Joe already looked mortified by the mere suggestion so Ben didn’t say anything.  
  
“Never have I ever done a body shot,” Ara began.  
  
Ben drank and Joe looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“What?” Ben asked. “I was at uni.”  
  
“Wait, _done_ one?” Jess asked Ara. “Or had one done off your own body?”  
  
“No, like taken one off someone else.”  
  
Jess rolled her eyes and drank, then looked at Joe. “You haven’t?”  
  
Joe laughed. “No, am I missing out?”  
  
“Maybe,” Jess said. “You could find out tonight.”  
  
“Alright, Joe, your turn,” Ara instructed.  
  
“Okay, lemme think--okay. Never have I ever received a lap dance.”  
  
As Joe shot Ben a sideways glance, Ben brought the wine up to his lips and drank again.  
  
“Are you serious?” Joe exclaimed.  
  
“Joe, what can I tell you, uni was a wild ride,” Ben replied.  
  
“Ben, you’re the only one who has,” Ara said.  
  
“I guess we’ll have lots of new things to try tonight,” Jess remarked.  
  
The Never Have I Ever questions kept getting rallied off and the wine kept pouring out of the bottle, plus the two extra shots they all did, and Ben could feel himself maxing out on drunkenness. He was wise enough to move away from the ledge--he definitely didn’t want to die in Greece, and especially not drunk and with two strangers.  
  
Jess had been making eyes at Joe all night, touching his arm and laughing, basically clinging to him. Ara seemed to have been waiting for Ben to react in some way but he found it all somewhat amusing--he had never been a real jealous type and besides, he really did want Joe to feel special.  
  
The music was still going, Ben was smoking another cigarette and then Jess pulled Joe up from his seat and started dancing with him. He looked to Ben, seeming mildly panicked, but Ben motioned with his hand for Joe to go ahead.  
  
Joe slowly got into the rhythm, not so steady on his feet at first but he gradually moved to the beat with Jess keeping herself close to him, grabbing his hands and grooving with him. She then turned to Ara and Ben and said, “Come on guys.”  
  
Ben and Ara looked at one another.  
  
“I’m not much of a dancer,” Ben said.  
  
“Well--I’m not much of a _good_ dancer,” Ara replied, standing up. She took Ben’s hand. “Come on.”  
  
Everything had faded away until Ben was hit with the sober thoughts of the reality of the situation--in Greece with Joe, on a patio atop a volcano, dancing with two women they had just met that morning. It still felt a little surreal to him, but Ben took a final drag from his cigarette then tossed it aside against the stone.  
  
“Joe, since you’ve never gotten a lap dance, how about I give you one?” Jess asked.  
  
“Uh--” was all Joe said with a laugh.  
  
“Any song you want,” Jess insisted.  
  
“Okay, um--Britney Spears,” Joe replied. “‘Toxic.’”  
  
“Yes!” Jess exclaimed.  
  
“I got it,” Ara said and grabbed her phone sitting next to the mini speaker. She turned to Ben and asked quietly, “You okay?”  
  
Ben scoffed. “I’m curious to see how this goes.”  
  
Ara shrugged, smirking, and commenced the song.  
  
Jess coerced Joe into one of the lounge chairs and began the lap dance, her back to Joe and her ass hovering over his crotch, running her hands through her hair as Britney sang, “I need a hit, baby gimme it.”  
  
Ben’s skin was sticky with sweat from all the alcohol and heat and he sat down opposite them, clutching a bottle of water. He could only see Joe’s profile and his face read as confused more than anything else, and he had kept his hands on the chair until Jess turned around and leaned over him as she took his hands and put them on her waist.  
  
The song ended before Ben even had time to construct a coherent thought about it all. Jess moved off Joe and giggled before grabbing a bottle of water for herself.  
  
“You were a good sport,” she said to Joe.  
  
“Yeah that was--interesting,” Joe replied.  
  
Perhaps it was purely the booze or perhaps the exoticism of Santorini and the night heat had also fueled him, but Ben was feeling good and feeling adventurous himself. It _had_ been sort of hot to see Joe get a lap dance which Ben couldn’t articulate why. Still, he felt so young, so youthful and without a care in the world in that moment.  
  
“Should we actually play spin the bottle?” he asked the group.  
  
Joe immediately looked at him, eyes big and brows raised.  
  
“Oh my god _yes_ ,” Jess agreed and grabbed the empty wine bottle.  
  
Joe went to Ben. “Ben, what--”  
  
“We don’t do this if you don’t want to,” Ben told him, grazing his forearm with his fingertips.  
  
Joe looked in Ben’s eyes as he considered it in silence before saying, “Alright, what the hell.”  
  
Ben laughed.  
  
They all sat in a circle and Joe spun first. Ben watched Jess, noting her obvious look of hope and anticipation, but the neck of the bottle pointed to Ben himself.  
  
“Oh my god,” Ara said and laughed.  
  
For a moment Ben wondered if Ara had even told Jess that he and Joe were together--he couldn’t imagine a woman still trying to get with either of them after finding out they were partners. It didn’t matter, of course--Ben looked to Joe and smiled, pulling him forward by his neck. Ben pressed his mouth against Joe’s and reached his other hand up to his neck as their lips parted, the kiss drunk and sloppy, Joe’s scruff scratching Ben’s jaw, all while Jess and Ara hollered in the background.  
  
“That was hot,” Jess said when Ben and Joe broke away.  
  
Ben thought the same. Joe’s eyes lingered on his, gold-flecked and shining, and his lips were already flushed from their kiss. Ben licked his own lips as he settled back down against the stone of the patio, and then suddenly the bottle was pointing at him. He looked up to see Ara regarding him with her dark eyes.  
  
Ben looked to Joe for the go-ahead and he gave Ben a slight head nod. Ben turned back to Ara, and she got on her hands and knees to move closer to him. She looked into his eyes and smiled and Ben smiled back, his heart beating furiously--it had been a while since he had kissed anyone else but Joe, of course (and _not_ including AJ), and he had almost forgotten what it was like.  
  
Ara was able to remind him, tilting her head and brushing her lips against Ben’s softly, and his mouth meshed with hers. She gently bit down on his bottom lip before their mouths met again, and he slid his tongue into her mouth as she cupped the side of his face.  
  
Ben had kissed lots of women before but it had been so long that kissing Ara felt like an entirely new experience. The only thing that was grounding for him was realizing that Joe’s skin was just as soft as hers.  
  
Ara pulled away first, her hand slowly leaving the side of Ben’s face, and he chuckled.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you kiss anyone before,” Joe remarked to Ben. “Not in real life, anyway.”  
  
The sound of glass on stone pulled Ben’s attention away from Joe. There was the bottle, its neck pointed at Joe and its base in front of Jess. Ben couldn’t even imagine what she was feeling then, but based on her face and the deep inhale of air into her lungs, he figured her ex-boyfriend must have really driven her mad, and he watched as Jess scooched closer to Joe, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck.  
  
But when Ben saw Jess’s lips connect with Joe’s and her fingers lace behind his head, how her chest sighed against his as he put his hand through her hair, how he saw the parting of their lips and the slip of Joe’s tongue inside her mouth, and how his auburn scruff was rubbing on _her_ skin, Ben felt an intense heat rising in his body. It went beyond the false body heat of being drunk--he felt like he needed to dunk his head in a bucket of ice water.  
  
Without thinking Ben stood up and walked to the ledge. He felt like he might vomit, which he thought would be the worst thing, and despite his better judgment he lit a cigarette. By the time that had happened, Jess and Joe had broken their kiss and Joe was sitting back with his lips even more rosy than they had been before. Jess was still looking at him with a hunger that suddenly made Ben uncomfortable. He wished Rami were with him, imagining him shooing Jess away.  
  
Joe stood up and went over to him. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, sorry, I’m alright,” Ben answered. No, he was not alright physically or emotionally, but he didn’t want to ruin the whole night.  
  
Still, he knew Joe knew him better than that, and the look of concern on his face bore into Ben so much so that, as he took a drag, he had to turn away.  
  
“Let’s go,” Joe said softly, then turned back to Ara and Jess. “Looks like we have to call it a night. I just remembered that we have plans in the morning so, uh--we should sober up for that.”  
  
Ara looked at Ben, nearly mimicking the same look of concern Joe had given him.  
  
“Aw, are you serious?” Jess asked. “The night is young.”  
  
Ben himself didn’t feel so young then, however. “Sorry,” he said. “But this was fun.”  
  
“Bye guys,” Ara said, approaching Ben and, a little to his surprise, she hugged him.  
  
Ben relaxed against her, wrapping his arms around her. “Bye, Ara.”  
  
Jess hugged Joe but Ben was quick to start to exit the patio before she could do the same to him, the smoke from his cigarette trailing behind him.  
  
“Be safe!” Jess called after them.  
  
“Always,” Ben replied without turning around.

  
  


The walk back had been hot and sticky and Ben was desperate to take off his clothes by the time they walked inside the airbnb. Thankfully Joe had chosen a place with air conditioning and Ben immediately turned it on, standing over a vent as he waited for it to kick on, and tore off his t-shirt, tossing it onto the couch.  
  
“Ben, I’m sorry,” Joe said, standing beside him.  
  
A cold shower and a good meal--that’s what Ben needed. “No, I’m sorry Joe. It was my stupid idea,” he said. “You don’t have to be sorry. I was--I was having a good time.”  
  
Ben was wasted basically, and he hoped Joe was too. He felt embarrassed for being so childish.  
  
“Can you sit? I’ll get you some water,” Joe said.  
  
Ben shook his head. “Nah, mate, I need a shower,” he said and made his way to the bedroom, stripping off the rest of his clothes, having to peel off his jeans before even getting in the bathroom.  
  
Joe leaned in the open doorway. “Okay. But we gotta talk about this--”  
  
“How drunk are you?” Ben asked.  
  
“Pretty fucking drunk, why?”  
  
“Okay. Just checking. Not that it makes my stupidity any better but, just so you know, I’m very drunk.”  
  
“I can tell.”  
  
Ben sighed and turned on the water, the blasting of it against the tile assaulting his ears. “I promise we’ll talk after this,” he said. “I’m dying right now. It’s so fucking hot.”  
  
Joe stepped out and Ben stepped into the water. The hard droplets of cold water send a shiver through his whole body but he was able to feel himself cooling down, literally. He stuck his face in the water and ran his hand back through his hair, feeling the remnants of sweat and mousse sticking to his fingers, then he turned around and just stood under the water. It pummeled against his back like a thousand tiny fists as he stared at the white tile wall.  
  
Yes, he felt stupid and childish. Was that how Joe had felt when AJ had kissed him? All Ben really knew was that he didn’t like seeing Joe kiss someone else, despite not really being a jealous type, or so he thought. Ben may have been good at keeping his insecurities under wraps but right then he felt them moving like snakes under his skin, itching to make their way out. He knew Joe wanted to be with him--they were soulmates, after all--but then that reasonable part of Ben’s brain was overthrown by thinking back to when he had been rejected by Joe after kissing him, just to be rejected again later on.  
  
Ben turned back around and let the water spray him in the face again.  
  
When he got out, a towel wrapped around his waist, Joe wasn’t in the bedroom. Ben padded out and found him standing in the kitchen chugging a glass of water.  
  
“Did it help?” Joe asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Ben answered. “It did.”  
  
“So--what was all that?” Joe went on. “I mean, not you specifically, just like--what was all _that_?”  
  
Ben laughed. “I don’t know, mate.” He sighed and leaned against the wall. “It was pretty fun until you and Jess kissed.”  
  
Joe was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.  
  
“Joe, I’m not mad at you--I have no right to be--I’m mad at myself,” Ben explained. “I’m mad because I was being stupid. I thought it wouldn’t bother me--I mean, the lap dance didn’t bother me, but--” He paused, not knowing how to articulate his feelings. “I’m sorry. I mean, I kissed Ara. Christ, wasn’t I the one who proposed the whole damn thing?”  
  
Joe laughed but he said, “Ben, just breathe. I feel like we’re having flashbacks to AJ.”  
  
Ben laughed then too. “Fair point. I guess what I’m just trying to say is--I was really, really jealous,” he said. “I couldn’t handle seeing you kiss someone else and I thought I could, even in jest.”  
  
Joe smiled.  
  
“And I kissed Ara--god, Joe, I’m sorry.”  
  
Joe moved in front of Ben and held his face in his hands. “It’s okay, Ben. _I’m_ okay,” he said. “I just wanna make sure _you’re_ okay.”  
  
Ben reached up and held Joe’s wrist. “Yeah, I’m okay.”  
  
Joe pressed his forehead against Ben’s and looked into his eyes, like amber meeting aquamarine and the cool wall against his back helped Ben feel even more stabilized. He wrapped his arms around Joe’s waist and rested his head in the crook of his neck--he smelled like wine and smoke and sweat.  
  
“So,” Joe began quietly, mussing with Ben’s hair. “Benny got jealous?”  
  
Ben laughed against Joe’s neck. “Stop.”  
  
“I think it’s sweet.”  
  
“I don’t like it.”  
  
“It’s sweet,” Joe insisted, nibbling on Ben’s ear before standing straight and smoothing Ben’s damp hair back into place. “You up for a late night meal?”  
  
“God yes,” Ben replied, running his hands up under the back of Joe’s shirt. “It’s just about dinner time in New York, anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Humans are complicated, even in fanfiction form :D I really hope you guys enjoyed this despite the ~drama.~ I liked deviating from the norm. How do you think you'd feel if you were in Ben's place? You best believe if I were dating either one of these men I'd keep them all to myself.  
> NOT TO WORRY--despite this being a controversial chapter, I hope y'all know I'd never split our boys up like that and I hope you're still enjoying the story.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all--I apologize for this one being so short and not as ~riveting~ as some other chapters. Chapter 28 (!!) will be posted a little sooner to make up for it. I'm making the commitment!

As much fun as Joe had had during his trip with Ben, he was glad to be home in Brooklyn. The scent of his own apartment was so strong--lavender laundry detergent lingering the air, dust that accumulated in his absence, the half-burned scented candles in the living room, all of it hit him in a new way, yet he immediately felt comforted by the familiarity.  
  
Ben had gone to his loft to unpack and they had both agreed they were going to take a nap. After the plane ride and drive back, Joe couldn’t think of anything better than just stripping off his clothes and getting in bed, so that’s exactly what he did--only with boxers on, he drew the blinds of his bedroom windows and got under the covers, wrapping himself in a plush cocoon.  
  
All in all, it had been an amazing trip, even with the strange drunken night of spin the bottle. Joe laughed a little as he thought back to it, thinking of the absurdity of it, and still feeling flattered by Ben’s jealousy. It didn’t hurt that Ben had completely ravaged him the next morning. Beyond that, walking the streets and the beaches, feeling the water on his skin, eating amazing meals and just experiencing a different part of the world with Ben had been a dream come true for Joe.  
  
There was still a month before he’d have to repack and lug all his stuff upstate. Joe wrapped the blankets tighter around himself and dozed off, still thinking about Ben.

  


When he woke up it was dark outside, causing Joe to feel even more disoriented from his longer-than-expected nap. He rolled over onto his side and shut his eyes again before finally convincing himself to just get up--he wasn’t doing himself any favors by screwing with his jet lag like that. So Joe managed to swing his legs over the mattress and sit there for a minute, palms against the edge, before mustering the energy to stand up on the hardwood.  
  
Joe was hungry and groggy. In the kitchen he poured himself a glass of water from the Brita and chugged half of it. The fridge was mostly empty apart from that--he had been smart enough to eat just about everything he could before the trip so nothing expired, but then that meant returning to an empty kitchen.  
  
He thought something simple would do. Joe opened one of the cupboards and saw a jar of peanut butter, but no bread on the counter. There was a package of ramen but he didn’t want that either, even as a last resort sort of meal. He leaned against the counter and sighed--it would be a late night grocery trip.

  


Joe had always loved going to out of state grocery stores when he was a kid and traveling with his parents. Each grocery store was its own unique entity, all smelling different with different lighting, different sounds, different layouts. It was so easy to have home grocery stores imprinted in one’s mind, which made the experience of something new so visceral. Joe was hoping that he had been away from Brooklyn long enough to feel a dash of that magic in the same Whole Foods he had been going to for years.  
  
It wasn’t quite that way, in fact it felt like he had never left, but Joe tried to not let the disappointment get to him too much. He was still a little groggy, his t-shirt clinging to his torso from the humidity, and the burst of cold air when he went through the automatic doors was a much-needed jolt.  
  
While he was glad to be back home, the mundane nature of grocery shopping only added to his sluggishness. Joe kept thinking of Santorini’s blue sky, sparkling waters and warm breezes, and of how much he wished he could have every single moment captured in his brain like one long home video.  
  
Still, he persevered, meandering down the aisles and grabbing all the things he needed to restock his fridge and cupboards as he dashed each one off the paper list he had made beforehand. Soon enough he had made his way through the maze and was at the checkout with full paper bags, wishing Ben was with him to help him.  
  
Back in the car Joe checked his phone--Ben had sent him a photo of the two of them Joe had taken, both in sunglasses, Ben pulling a pouty face at the camera while Joe was giddy and showing off an open-mouthed grin. Joe laughed to himself as he looked at the picture.  
  
_That was a good day,_ he texted back.  
  
Joe sat with the a/c blasting over him, the groceries nestled in the back seats, and then came Ben’s vibrating reply:  
  
_It was a great day. I already miss it there_  
  
_Me too_ Joe typed back. _What are you doing now?_  
  
_Thinking about what I’m going to eat. You?_  
  
_I just got groceries. Let me come over and I’ll cook for you_  
  
_That’s an offer I can’t refuse_

  


Joe actually liked Ben’s cooking more than his own so he arrived at the loft, paper bag with a small selection of some of the groceries in hand, secretly hoping that Ben would actually take over the job.  
  
When Ben let him in, Joe was struck by his beauty even post-nap and disheveled.  
  
“We just can’t be apart, can we?” Ben asked with a chuckle, shutting the door as Joe went to the kitchen and set the bag on the counter.  
  
“We’ll be apart for a while pretty soon,” Joe reminded him.  
  
Ben exhaled. “Shit, you’re right. Almost forgot about that.” He circled his arms around Joe’s waist from behind, resting his face against Joe’s shoulder blade.  
  
Joe immediately relaxed into Ben’s arms, his hands warm against his abdomen. “I took the easy way out,” he said. “Because I brought pasta.”  
  
Ben laughed against Joe’s shoulder. “That’s good, I could go for pasta.”  
  
“I just have to make the sauce, really.”  
  
“Wow, homemade. Such a treat.” Ben ran his hands up to Joe’s chest as he nuzzled his shoulder.  
  
Since the Santorini incident Ben had been even more affectionate, which Joe didn’t really think were possible. Even in public during the remainder of their trip, Ben had seemed to have no qualms about holding Joe’s hand as they walked or giving him a soft kiss amidst a crowd, which was new for the both of them. Joe couldn’t complain.  
  
Even as Joe reached into the bag Ben still clung to him, only slightly inhibiting Joe’s arms as he gathered what he needed. Only when he went to the cupboards to retrieve the pots and pans did Ben release him.

  


“Where do you wanna go next?” Joe asked Ben, lying in bed next to him, both of them on top of the covers. Joe was on his side and looking at Ben, who was on his back and looking at the ceiling. The city lights streamed in through the blinds, illuminating Ben’s face in yellow stripes.  
  
Ben smiled. “Well, we should really visit Gwil,” he said. “He misses us.”  
  
“Ah, yes, our dear Gwilym,” Joe replied. “Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe we could recruit Rami to go, too.”  
  
“I miss them,” Ben said with a sigh.  
  
“Me too,” Joe said.  
  
“I know I need to tell my family,” Ben said after a minute of silence.  
  
Joe didn’t to ask what Ben was referencing. “How do you think that will go?” he asked.  
  
“Hard to say. It’s not like they’ll be furious or anything,” Ben told him. “It’s more the indifference that gets to me.”  
  
Joe just stayed quiet.  
  
Ben sighed again. “Maybe we could go to London sometime after your movie is all finished,” he proposed. “And it would mostly be for Gwil, but also to--yeah, do that.”  
  
“Whatever you want,” Joe told him.  
  
“I shouldn’t have taken a nap,” Ben said, rolling over and curling into Joe, burying his face in the side of his chest.  
  
Joe adjusted himself, hooking his arm around Ben’s shoulder. “I know,” he said. “It’ll be a challenge to get back on our regular schedules.”  
  
“It’s like 4 in the morning in Santorini,” Ben groaned. “I can’t even remember what I’m supposed to do tomorrow.”  
  
“I have a nice four-way phone meeting to look forward to,” Joe said, yawning.  
  
“Your actors or crew?”  
  
“The crew.”  
  
“I’m so excited for you,” Ben said. “Although I’m not excited to be apart--again.”  
  
Joe ran his fingers through Ben’s hair. “Me either,” he said. “We had to do that for too long.”

  


Joe always liked waking up in Ben’s bed. He loved the spacious loft scattered with mismatched furniture that he himself had tried to make work together, most pieces brought over from Ben’s London flat; the big windows that, despite the blinds, allowed the space to flood with morning light; the drum set in the corner opposite the bed; the mess of books and empty glasses on the coffee table. Joe just liked being in Ben’s space.  
  
Ben rolled over onto his stomach and tucked his arms underneath his pillow. With his eyes still closed he told Joe, “I had this dream that we were in Santorini again. But it didn’t look like Santorini. And you caught this massive shrimp while we were fishing.” He groaned quietly. “But you wanted to keep the shrimp as a pet.”  
  
“That’s very weird. Was the shrimp alive?” Joe asked. "I’m picturing myself just catching a giant raw and peeled shrimp.”  
  
“It was alive.”  
  
“I’m not sure if I’d want a shrimp as a pet,” Joe mused.  
  
Ben rolled over onto his back. “Would you still have been with me even if I hadn’t moved here?” he asked.  
  
Joe felt it was a little early for such a conversation, but he answered nonetheless: “I think I would have, eventually. After I brought you back to the airport, I felt awful.” He sighed. “Instantly I knew I wanted to be with you. I mean, I knew before that too. But distance--especially that distance--is hard.”  
  
“Yeah, definitely not ideal.”  
  
“Sometimes I still feel like I asked too much of you.”  
  
“I wouldn’t have moved here if I hadn’t really wanted to.”  
  
“I know. But still.”  
  
“We’ve got our entire lives to figure out where we wanna end up,” Ben said, sitting up and slowly getting out of bed. “I guess Brooklyn is the start.”  
  
Joe reached for Ben as he walked around the bed, managing to grab the hem of his t-shirt. “Hey,” he said, pulling him closer. “I love you.”  
  
Ben smiled, letting himself be pulled back into the mattress. “I love you too,” he said, letting Joe’s hands travel up under his shirt for a minute before pulling away.  
  
Joe stayed in bed for a little while longer, listening to the shower running and looking out the window. He always felt a nervousness upon returning from a trip, as if the ground had been pulled out from underneath him, like the temporary reality he had lived in was just gone forever. Wrapped up in Ben’s sheets, Joe was feeling a little dismantled and very nostalgic. He eventually made himself get up, tossing the sheets aside, and went to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, starting his life in Brooklyn again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of the mundane real-life, I suppose, but I always love the mundane.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The Final Chapter**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you will be disheartened to know that this is indeed the final chapter of "I've Been Waiting." I am too, truly, but I've come to realize that taking a break is something I need to do. It'll give me some more room to breathe and allow more time to work on my "IRL writing."  
> Not to fear! I'm not so willing to give up Hardzello for good and have mental plans to create a new fanfic, following this same plot, at some point in the future. I won't make any empty promises but please know that it's swirling around in my mind.

Summer seemed like it had come and gone before Ben could even blink. It was as if Santorini had sent him into such a dream world that the return to reality just hadn’t been quite real enough and time had passed by absurdly quickly. He had spent the remainder of July feeling as though he was playing catch-up, spending hours on the phone with Gwil and Rami and checking in with his theater friends, all in an attempt to get grounded again and get a move on.  
  
August came, marking six months of Ben and Joe being together. Thankfully neither one cared much for the sentiment of anniversaries, at least not monthly anniversaries, so there was no big to-do; Ben had cooked Joe dinner and that was that, both of them draped over one another on the couch afterward with a box of eclairs to share.  
  
It may have been one of the hottest days yet in Brooklyn but Ben took it upon himself to go out anyway, camera strap around his neck, and venture into untapped territory. It felt cathartic to just wander and capture whatever he pleased, to find those quieter areas in the city, all run down and crumbling. He kicked a shard of brick as he made his way down a side street, leaving the bustle of all the shops and restaurants behind for just a short while.  
  
Ben still missed the comforts of London. He missed the green of it all even amidst the city life; he missed the wet summers, the lushness of the countryside and all the magnificent spots deep in nature that had felt like they were only steps away. He had grown to adore Brooklyn in its own right yet Ben did half-wish that he had chosen to reside upstate with Joe for the entirety of his project. Ultimately he knew he had made the right choice--Joe needed to work without distraction and Ben needed to test the waters of Brooklyn alone.  
  
He was thinking of it as a possible opportunity to pursue creative endeavours other than acting; even AJ had brought up the idea of starting a band, although he had mostly been kidding. Still, it seemed like a in interesting idea to Ben--at the very least he’d have a real commitment to a hobby and he could cultivate his skills even more. It never hurt to channel his inner Roger Taylor anyway.  
  
Ben peered inside the dark recess of the abandoned brick building he was in front of but all he could see through the shattered glass was cobwebs and broken pieces of furniture strewn about, as well as haphazard graffiti on the walls. He made his way around the side and found the fire escape and, channeling his inner Angel, yanked the ladder down and hoisted himself up, as carefully as possible cradling his camera against his chest with one hand.  
  
It was an entirely different view from the rooftop, though it wasn’t an exceptionally tall building. He was so used to his own loft’s height but the abandoned building gave him an overview of a different part of the city and, practically dripping with sweat, he lit a cigarette and held it between his lips as he started to capture the view. 

  
  


“Just a couple of days now,” Joe said to Ben, both of them perched on the fire escape outside Ben’s loft. “And then our codependency will be ruined.”  
  
Ben chuckled, a cigarette between his fingers. “I don’t think it’s codependency,” he objected. “Isn’t it love?”  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
Ben nodded, taking a drag. “It’ll be interesting at least,” he said. “Well, for you, anyhow.”  
  
“Oh come on, you’ll be busier than you even realize,” Joe told him, leaning against the railing.  
  
“You’re probably right. Not as busy at someone working on a film, though,” Ben replied, jostling Joe with his elbow.  
  
Joe turned Ben to him, wrapping his arms around his neck and running his fingers through his hair. “Well, you’ll be able to come up and check it all out whenever you want,” he said. “I’m sure everyone would be ecstatic to have the iconic Ben Hardy on set. Of course, I’ll have to do my best to keep you to myself.”  
  
“You probably won’t have to try that hard,” Ben said. “Anyway, I’ll have to go up there for your birthday.”  
  
Joe smiled. “Now _that_ will be special,” he said, running his fingers down the back of Ben’s neck. “I got something for you.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Joe took Ben’s hand and let him back inside, then grabbed his backpack. He pulled out something flat and wrapped in shiny navy blue paper and handed it to Ben.  
  
“Not exactly a parting gift, obviously,” he explained. “But something to add to your, uh, collection.”  
  
Ben unwrapped it, already being able to guess what it was--a framed photo, he just wasn’t sure which one it could be. Tearing away the paper, he saw the picture of himself, Joe, Rami and Gwil all in costume and nestled against one another underneath Freddie Mercury’s infamous fur cape surrounded by a silver frame.  
  
“Brilliant,” Ben laughed. “I’m ashamed I didn’t already have this framed, honestly.”  
  
“The BoRhap boys,” Joe remarked. “Good times.”  
  
Ben brought the frame over to one of the windows in the living area and set it on the windowsill. “Front and center,” he said. “As it should be.”  
  
Joe approached Ben and pulled him close, pulling his hair to tilt his head back and kissing his neck, working his way up from his collar to his Adam’s apple and landing at his jaw, pressing soft kisses along it. He kept his left hand in Ben’s hair and slid his right hand down Ben’s side to rest on his hip.  
  
Ben sighed as Joe continued to cover his neck and jaw in kisses. “It’s a good thing no one can really see us from up here,” he said, gripping Joe’s waist.  
  
“I think it’d be a good show,” Joe replied, gently biting Ben’s throat.  
  
“If we’re going to continue,” Ben said. “I think the bed would be more appropriate.”  
  
Joe retreated from Ben’s neck. “You wanna continue?” he asked, looking in Ben’s eyes.  
  
Ben’s whole body already felt hot from Joe’s kisses and his hands on him, yet he could have laughed at his question--it wasn’t often at all when Ben _didn’t_ want to continue. He just bit his lip and pulled Joe over to the bed, both of them sitting on the edge. He caressed Joe’s cheek in his hand, Ben resting his forehead against his.  
  
He felt like he was in high school again in that moment, on the edge of his bed with a nervous fluttering in his chest over being so madly infatuated with someone, that someone with such soft, smooth skin and loving amber eyes.  
  
Ben wondered if they would have been friends, had they gone to the same high school for whatever reason, maybe in a parallel universe. He would have liked to think so.  
  
Joe smiled and giggled quietly before dipping his head and planting a kiss on Ben’s lips. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.  
  
“I was thinking about whether or not we would have been friends,” Ben told him, scooching back onto the bed and sitting cross-legged. “If we had gone to high school together.”  
  
“Well, we wouldn’t have even met, considering our age difference.”  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
Joe took a moment to think it over. “I think I would have seen you playing rugby--or football, or whatever--and fallen in love right then and there,” he said, gently pushing Ben back on the bed and getting on top of him. “I would be on the bleachers and I’d look up and see you and be able to think of nothing else.”  
  
Ben laughed. “Really?”  
  
“Why not?” Joe replied. “That’s basically what happened in real life. Except it was you playing the drums. What about me?”  
  
“Maybe we would have met in theater,” Ben mused. “And we’d both get cast in something. We’d rehearse lines together and then one day after school you’d finally kiss me.”  
  
Then Joe laughed. “You really think I would’ve been that bold?”  
  
“That’s fair, you couldn’t even make the first move on me in real life.”  
  
Joe lowered himself and kissed Ben softly on the mouth. “Have I made up for it since?”  
  
“I think so,” Ben said and pulled Joe closer, letting their lips mesh and part so Ben could slide his tongue into Joe’s mouth.  
  
“Let’s get this off you,” Joe said, pulling Ben’s shirt over his head. Ben shuddered at the rush of the a/c and Joe traced his fingertips over the goosebumps on his skin, then kissed his chest. “You are so fucking sexy.”  
  
Ben figured this would be the last chance for them to have sex before Joe left, meaning that they were both going to absolutely go to town on one another, and he shuddered again under Joe’s touch and reached down to his waistband, grappling with the fly.  
  
“Not yet,” Joe said, pinning Ben’s wrist to the bed and commencing working his way down Ben’s body, tonguing his abs.  
  
Ben sighed, letting his head fall back again as Joe continued, his fingers slipping past the waistband of Ben’s sweatpants and pulling them down to his ankles. Joe lifted Ben’s legs one at a time to yank the sweatpants off completely before parting his legs.  
  
He slid down onto the floor and planted himself between Ben’s legs. Joe kissed the soft skin of his inner thigh, his hand resting on the other. “Rugby really worked for you,” Joe remarked, squeezing Ben’s quad.  
  
“I thought I made disappointing woman?” Ben replied.  
  
Joe smirked. “Please, you know how much I loved seeing you in that get-up.”  
  
“A fantasy I will not explore any further.”  
  
“Hey, that’s alright, I got my fill.” Joe switched, kissing Ben’s opposite thigh. “I can picture you in those tights anytime I want.”  
  
“I’m so glad that you slapping my ass is on film,” Ben said, a little breathlessly through his sarcasm.  
  
“That was fun,” Joe said and slid his fingers underneath the hem of Ben’s boxers. “Almost more fun that it was filmed.”  
  
“Oh my god.”  
  
“I know, I know--not your thing,” Joe replied with a laugh. He kissed up Ben’s thigh, lingering right on the fleshiest part to bite it, before his mouth landed lightly on his crotch “But you did look really hot.”  
  
Ben bit his lip, forever trying to seem more composed than he was, but his skin tingling underneath Joe’s touch and he had no control over what was going on between his legs. Joe’s fingertips ran so slightly down Ben’s inner thigh that he shuddered, arousing a smirk from Joe, whose other hand traveled down past his waistband. Ben lost a bit of his composure then, running his hand back through his hair and looking up at the ceiling before closing his eyes.  
  
“Why are you fighting it?” Joe asked quietly.  
  
“I’m not fighting it,” Ben replied. “I just want it to last longer.”  
  
“Oh, I never realized that was an issue,” Joe said with a chuckle.  
  
Ben laughed. “No, not that. I just--well, this’ll be the last time for a number of weeks,” he explained. “Which is a long time, don’t you think?”  
  
“Very long,” Joe agreed, kissing his way up Ben’s body to his mouth. “We can go as slow as you want tonight.”  
  
“Well, not _too_ slow,” Ben replied, pulling Joe’s shirt up and over his head. He sat up and held Joe against his chest, cradling the back of his head as he kissed him hard.  
  
“Yeah,” Joe uttered, laughing a little against Ben’s mouth. “I’m gonna miss this.”

  
  


“Here,” Ben said, handing Joe an iced coffee. There were bags still inside the apartment although he imagined most of Joe’s stuff had already been packed into the car. “You’ve got quite a drive up there.”  
  
Joe smiled and took the coffee, kissing Ben’s cheek. “You’re the best, thank you.”  
  
Ben had never really had to part ways like that with any other partner and with Joe it made him feel especially nervous. Not nervous in an insecure sense, just nervous because Ben knew how much he would miss him, and that was a little scary. Joe had been right--Ben had plans, he would have his time occupied as always, but the thought of being in Brooklyn (as still a relatively new home for him) without Joe by his side was unsettling.  
  
“Did you make a list?” Ben asked, glancing at the bags.  
  
“I did,” Joe answered, pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket. “I’ll probably forget something, something I can’t think of now, but I made sure to pack all the essentials.”  
  
“If you’re not too busy, you’ll have to send me pictures of everything.”  
  
“Oh yeah, of course. Until you get to see everything for yourself.”  
  
“I’m gonna have so much fun on that train ride,” Ben said, rolling his eyes.  
  
“It’ll be long, but it’ll be an adventure,” Joe told him and slung his backpack over his shoulder before grabbing one of the duffel bags. “Walk me out?”  
  
Ben grabbed the remaining two bags and followed Joe out of the apartment and to his car, placing the bags in the trunk. The weather seemed to match his mood--apart from it being a thick, warm September day, it was also overcast and grey, and he was sort of glad he had at least that resonance with the world.  
  
“Well, this is it,” Joe said after he slammed the trunk shut. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”  
  
Ben lightly hit his arm. “Stop that.”  
  
“I’ll see you soon,” Joe said. “You’ll be fine here. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Is it normal for both of us to be so melodramatic about this?”  
  
Joe laughed, hooking his thumbs through Ben’s belt loops and pulling him close. “We’re in love, that’s all,” he said. “We also had to be apart for a long time before and didn’t have a lot of fun.”  
  
Ben reached his arms around Joe and hugged him. “No, I suppose it wasn’t fun,” he said against Joe’s shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you, Joe.”  
  
“I’ll miss you too, Benny.” Joe tilted Ben’s chin up and kissed him softly.  
  
Ben leaned into the kiss, gripping Joe’s shirt in his hands, never wanting the moment to end, but Joe broke away and gave him a comforting smile.  
“Drive safe, okay?” Ben said.  
  
Joe traced his thumb over Ben’s bottom lip. “Always.”

  
  


Not really knowing what to do when Ben got back to his loft, he paced around a bit, looking at all the photos of him and his friends--mostly the band--all over the place, and tried to read, which he couldn’t get into. Then Ben went to his desktop and tried to edit some photos, but he felt hyper-critical of himself. Finally he figured he should actually go and get some breakfast, some very late breakfast, but he wanted to take someone with him.  
  
Before Rami could even properly greet Ben, Ben blurted, “So, Joe just left.”  
  
“Oh, man.”  
  
“It’s alright, really, it’s just a little strange.”  
  
“How so?”  
  
“Well, this whole city is still new to me.”  
  
“Want me to come over and keep you company?”  
  
Ben laughed. “If I said yes, would you?”  
  
“I’d be honored.”  
  
“I don’t have any plans today, that’s the problem,” Ben went on. “But I’m taking you to breakfast, or rather lunch, with me now.”  
  
“It’s also my breakfast time,” Rami said. “So I’m on board. What are we having?”  
  
“We are going to the nearby corner shop,” Ben told him. “Where they make ridiculously cheap egg sandwiches and coffee. It’s not bad. And then we’re going to the park.”  
  
“Ooh, alright.”  
  
Rami was still in Ben’s ear when he sat down in the grass of the park, resting the breakfast sandwich on his knee and cradling the cup of coffee on the ground. At least with even a disembodied voice, Ben didn’t feel so alone.  
  
“I think the hardest part will be sleeping alone,” Ben said. “Despite us living apart, we usually sleep together.”  
  
“Yeah, I think it’s hard to go without that when you’re used to it,” Rami said. “I think that’s one of the best parts about being in a relationship.”  
  
“Speaking of, how are you and Lucy?”  
  
“Great,” Rami replied, the smile audible in his voice. “Still filming The Politician.”  
  
“That’s awesome,” Ben said. “Both of you are hard at work.”  
  
“We saw each other a lot in the beginning,” Rami went on. “It was new. The honeymoon phase, I suppose. We’ve established a better balance now, I think.”  
  
“You think Joe and I spend too much time together?”  
  
“Keep in mind, Ben, I only hear what either one of you tells me,” Rami said. “But I know that, even before you moved, you two were inseparable.”  
  
Ben considered that--Rami wasn’t wrong. “Do you think we’re codependent?”  
  
“Maybe. But it works, right?”  
  
“So far, I’d like to think so.”  
  
“I think this distance is good for both you and Joe.”  
  
Ben sighed. “Yeah, I think you’re right. First day is the hardest, I guess.”

  
  


He had managed to keep himself busy all day but Ben still couldn’t wait for his scheduled Facetime call with Joe. He’d even cleaned up the loft, inspired by Joe’s orderly self as usual but also wanting Joe to be proud of him if he were to catch a good look at Ben’s surroundings. The dishes were all put away in the dishwasher; the clutter had been removed from the coffee table; he had dusted and swept; arranged the throw pillows on the couch; and finally, Ben had made his bed as neatly as possible, with freshly-washed sheets and fluffed pillows.  
  
Ben stepped outside to the fire escape, breathing in the fresh, cool air of the September evening. It would be a few more weeks before the leaves all started to change but the air had already changed--it was far less thick and humid. Breathing it in was actually refreshing, especially with the hot garbage smell dissipating little by little.  
  
Lighting a cigarette, Ben hunched over the railing and looked down at the pavement. His thoughts felt somewhat overwhelming for him then, most of it stemming from the anxiety of Joe’s absence, he figured. But, truth be told, his absence had already instilled something in Ben that he had tried to deny: he did not want to live in Brooklyn. He was fine with it for the foreseeable future but no amount of vacations could ever make Ben want to remain there for too long of a time, not even Joe could keep him there.  
  
It wasn’t that he hated it--it just wasn’t _his_.  
  
The thought of being upstate with Joe even provided more mental relief than being in Brooklyn did. Sure, he had friends in Brooklyn, but not friends he could talk to the same way he talked to Joe, Gwil, Rami and his friends back in London. Ultimately, Ben didn’t know where he and Joe would end--logistically or emotionally--but he wanted them to be together through it all.  
  
Would they get married? Ben wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_ to get married. Joe always talked about kids but Ben didn’t want kids. Hell, Joe still hadn’t met Ben’s family--he was getting ahead of himself.  
  
He took a deep breath before taking another drag and, when his phone started to vibrate, felt his heart race again.  
  
“Hey,” Ben said as Joe’s face came into view. “How’s day one?”  
  
“You’re not gonna believe it,” Joe said. “We shot Live Aid. On day one.”  
  
Ben laughed, so grateful to immediately be met with Joe’s sense of humor _and_ a reminder of Rami. “Oh good,” he said. “I’m glad. That’s quite an accomplishment.”  
  
Joe chuckled. “Well, not so much. But we’re getting everyone settled and starting to set things up,” he said. “I think tomorrow morning will be a smooth transition into total chaos.”  
  
Ben laughed again. “You got this, Joe. Really.”  
  
“It’s been a little while since I, uh, directed anything of my own,” Joe went on. “So I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little nervous. But it’ll be so worth it.”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“But how are you, Benny boy?”  
  
“Good. I took Rami to breakfast with me.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Well, via a phone call,” Ben chuckled. “It was nice.”  
  
“Rami is _fantastic_ company,” Joe agreed. “What else is going on?”  
  
“I cleaned the whole loft. You’d be proud. Wait, I’ll show you it,” Ben said and went back inside. He held his phone out, slowly circling to show Joe it in its entirety. “Ta-da.”  
  
“Wow, nice job,” Joe said. “You finally took the empty glasses off the coffee table.”  
  
“I know, I know, I’m terrible.”  
  
“Hold on, did you actually _make_ your bed?”  
  
“Yes, yes I did.” Ben laid down on top of it and stretched, feeling much more relaxed now that he was “with” Joe again. “Everything is clean and tucked and fluffed.”  
  
“Wow, now I’m really wishing I was there.”  
  
“Me too. Always.”  
  
“What would you want me to do if I was there?” Joe asked cheekily, reclining on his own bed in the cabin he was staying in, the comforter an unfamiliar pattern of greens and blues to Ben.  
  
“Everything,” Ben answered with a chuckle.  
  
“Show me,” Joe ordered, grinning.  
  
Ben laughed again, somewhat nervously--the naughtiest he’d ever been with Joe through the phone were a few post-shower pics here and there. Still, he moved past his own shyness and ran his fingers down his neck.  
  
“I’d want you to kiss me here,” Ben said, his fingertips lingering on his collarbone.  
  
“All soft kisses?” Joe asked. “Or could I give you some love bites?”  
  
“Well, Joe, you know I’m not one to oppose biting.”  
  
Joe laughed. “And I’m grateful. What else?”  
  
Ben was blushing, his face so warm he couldn’t even imagine how pink his cheeks must have been. “You would run your hands down my chest,” he said, mimicking the action on himself. “I like feeling your soft hands all along me.”  
  
Joe smirked. “Yeah?”  
  
“Then you could slip one hand down my pants,” Ben continued, sliding his own hand under his sweatpants and connecting with the warmth radiating through his boxers. Joe couldn’t see quite that much though, and Ben got a kick out of him sighing in anguish.  
  
“Tilt the phone down,” Joe instructed. “Let me see.”  
  
Ben looked up to the ceiling and laughed a little before obliging, tilting the phone down so Joe could see his hand underneath his sweatpants.  
  
“What else?” Joe asked.  
  
“I’d want you to keep kissing me,” Ben said. “As you wrap your hand around me.” He again mimicked his own fantasy, slipping his hand past his boxers to make direct contact with himself. Even with him feeling so conspicuous, he was already really turned on. He started stroking, the phone showing mostly just his lower abdomen and below.  
  
“That’s so hot,” Joe remarked. “Ben, are you biting your lip?”  
  
Ben was, and he stopped and laughed. “You know me too well.”  
  
“Wait, no, keep doing that,” Joe said. “I wanna see your face. I wanna see your face when you cum.”  
  
Ben moved the camera back up and continued under his boxers, stroking himself as he closed his eyes and imagining Joe there with him before remembering that Joe sort of _was_ there with him. He reopened his eyes and looked at Joe, who was watching Ben with such adoration and lust in his eyes that it made him blush harder.  
  
“Wish you were here,” Ben said a little breathlessly. “Helping me out.”  
  
“Me too,” Joe said. “I wanna kiss you so bad right now. Keep going.”  
  
Ben did, grabbing the lube he kept in his night table before commencing, looking to Joe’s eyes through the screen and biting his lip to keep himself from moaning.  
  
“You look so hot, baby,” Joe told him. “Cum for me.”  
  
Ben’s lips parted as he moaned softly, shimmying his pants down to his ankles, pulling his boxers down to his thighs as he continued. He closed his eyes, his left arm heavy from holding the phone out for so long, heat building up throughout his body, and he imagined Joe doing it all to him--but especially being there to kiss him as it happened.  
  
Everything, even Joe’s Facetime presence, disappeared as Ben finished, groaning expletives and breathing heavily, stars behind his eyes. He exhaled as his heart raced and the orgasm continued to shudder through his body, slowly opening his eyes.  
  
“Ugh,” Ben groaned. “I just washed these sheets.”  
  
Joe laughed. “Ben, that was so amazing.”  
  
“We’ve never done anything like that before.”  
  
“We’ve never really had to,” Joe said. “But now it might be something to keep trying.”  
  
Ben leaned over and tore his pants and boxers off himself. “I gotta shower now,” he said.  
  
“I could stick around for that.”  
  
“No, no, I should let you get back to work,” Ben replied. “I’ll save you a shower for another time, alright?”  
  
“Deal.”  
  
Ben looked at the floor then back at Joe. “Sleeping without you will be tough,” he said.  
  
Joe nodded sympathetically. “For me, too. I should have brought Cardboard Ben.”  
  
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Ben said. “That would be betrayal.”  
  
“Thank you,” Joe said with a sigh. “That was special. What are you doing tonight?”  
  
“Apart from showering--not much,” Ben answered.  
  
“Well, can you do me a favor? A small one,” Joe said. “Will you just send me that photo you took from the rooftop of the building? The one with the cloud like, in the right-hand corner.”  
  
“I have to touch it up,” Ben said. “And I will.”  
  
Joe smiled. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon?”  
  
“Yeah, of course.”  
  
“Okay. I love you, Ben,” Joe said, looking at Ben adoringly through the screen.  
  
“I love you too,” Ben told Joe, offering him one last smile. “Get some rest.”  
  
“I’ll do my best.”  
  
Ben closed out first, then hyper-aware of his sticky, half-naked body and the quiet of his loft. As he prepared for his shower he blasted Queen from the speakers in the living area, the words ringing out as he turned on the water.  
  
_I never thought that this could happen to me  
In only seven days  
It would take a hundred or more  
For memories to fade_  
  
As Ben had reminded himself earlier, absence only made the heart grow fonder--he and Joe would be fine, in fact they would probably end up being stronger after the fact. But Ben’s anxieties in the greater scheme of things weighed on him with Joe gone. He still wasn’t sure where their path was leading them and the unknown had always unsettled him.  
  
_I wish Friday would last forever  
  
I held her close to me  
I couldn't bear to leave her there_  
  
All the worries and predictions and silent declarations were erased when Ben remembered that he had to go to Joe’s apartment every day to get his mail, and he groaned into the water.  
  
_Saturday, just twenty-four hours  
Oh no, I'm going back home on Sunday_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope at the end of this, I was able to leave you with something sweet to carry around in your heart for a little while. I had such a blast writing this and I would definitely be interested in continuing at some point, so my darlings, just let me know. It's been an honor and a privilege to craft something you've all enjoyed so much and my love for you is eternal.  
> <3


End file.
